the $64,000 question... - copy
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Randomly arranged minimalist poemsTRANSCRIPT
The $64,000 question
Jack GalmitzThe $64,000 questionCopyright Jack Galmitz ImPress 2015New York, New York
The $64,000 question
Jack Galmitz
Looking at the skythrough the leaves of a great treecut down for years
The bees rainbow wingsreturn to my faceIm in his space
This summer nightfierce and soothingas a hiding cat
Rocks and graveleach edge a fall a hammerthe rails go on forever
Bare tract of landa blurred suna bent tree of black
Tired of lookingat itselfthe sunflower bows its head
Sunflower fielda universehere
I surrender-the roacheshave taken over
Scraping off the sootfrom the pot she keeps burningour marriage
Between mountainsa sunsetof pixels
My heartwhere have you gonehiding on ocean floors
Sitting on the porchwhen the downpour stopsah, the petrichor
Without godwhat is theremy hand in yours
At a yellow lightI spent most of my lifewaiting for it to change
The hobbledin white clothesstifle in church
How lonelyto be an Americanamong Americans
Pink heatherand a pink sunsetwhatever
Headlights in the rainall that steel or is it steeldominating world
I live in a worldof post-dreckapartment buildings derelict
Where did those men gothe ones with half a bodywho sold pencils long ago
The nursing homeon the floor closest to the skythose who will soon die
The bloodfloods its banksSaturday night
I love the seait graciouslytook me in
An outline in chalkof a man who was struck downa forecast of rain
Father died at nightId never seen such rainnever in my life
Blood blossomsin the syringeyoure off to heaven
Mother diedof sepsisan old icebox
Huge hydrangea treeIm weighed down, tooby the deluge
A crescent moonand a starlets have no more war
What splendorLake Ontario frozenthe waves at cresting
Shot from a cannonwhen she lands in the netshes the same woman
The donkey stopsand wont budgeenough is enough
The great roadsbelong to truckersthe heroes of goods
A man in a boxshipped third classis what weve become
Men who workin slaughterhouseshave grown cloven hooves
The parakeetI loved so much broke its neck or so I was told
Theres barely roomfor the Chinese in floatscooling off in the pool
in no timea street shrine formsflowers, candles and crosses
The dog lifts his legin a street of cracked earthin the barrio
Phantom India
A woman doctorraped on a busthen thrown to her death
Cracks in the roadcreate a silent flowercars tear the petals
Shes losther anxiety is feltrectangles of light step
Im frozen meatwaiting on the elevated platforma winter night