26 May 2008

The Bridge to Babylon

It was a cold night, very windy, with driving, heavy rain. I was alone in the laundromat, a block from my apartment. I had been there perhaps forty minutes, reading a newspaper, while I stood by one of the washing machines. A young man entered, stopped opposite me, and looked at me.

Twenty years old. Moderately long black hair, fine, boyish good looks framed by his hair and an incomplete beard and moustache which were perhaps ten days old.
There was a bright, faraway look in his eyes. He was very wet, shivering with cold, wearing only a shirt, a pair of jeans, and black boots. He smiled innocently, to reveal very white teeth. Babylon, I'm going to Babylon, he said.

He pointed at my green athletic sweatshirt, which I was wearing under my heavy coat. Can I have your sweater? I really need a sweater. No, I replied, I need it myself. That statement was true as far as it went, but in fact I had an identical, although newer one, at home. I could have given him my sweatshirt, and would still have had one to wear. But I didn't.

What is your name? Michael, he said. Where are you from? He named a town to the south, a town noted for the wealth of its residents. And he did look healthy and well cared for, apart from being ill-dressed for a cold, wet night.

Michael stood up very straight, and saluted me, and held the salute precisely for several seconds, while he looked at me with determination. Sir, he said. Yes, sir. He spoke for a while, not very coherently, about his dad in the military. Where does your dad live? Michael named his town again, and dropped his salute. The faraway look returned to his eyes.

My friend told me that I can get to Babylon by a bridge over the ocean. I want to go to Babylon. My friend says that it's a beautiful city. I am going to the ocean to cross the bridge to Babylon. Can I have some socks? I really need some socks. I looked at my laundry, which consisted only of underwear, tumbling in a dryer. I wondered whether I had included any white socks in the load. But I hadn't.

I can give you a tee shirt. Would you like a tee shirt? Yes, he replied. I went to the dryer to extract a shirt. I'm a lot bigger than you are, so the shirt is extra large. That's okay, Michael said, smiling. He stood opposite another dryer, and removed his own sopping shirt. I was surprised at how muscular he was, especially around the shoulders and upper arms, like a weight lifter. He was slim but not starving. He spent a minute or two admiring his reflection in the glass door of a dryer, absorbed in the experience.

Here is your shirt, I said. Here is your shirt. Eventually Michael noticed the tee shirt I was holding out to him. Sorry, he said, I did not hear a word you said. My friend says that Babylon is a beautiful city. Is that true?

I hear that Babylon is a ruined city, in a desert, I replied. Really? said Michael. Really?

He put on the tee shirt, and then his own wet shirt. I am warm now, he said. That happy, open, innocent look returned to his face. I have to go now, he said. Goodbye. And he walked out into the rain and wind.

10 May 2008

Electrocardiogram

four lines to the page
eleven beats per line

your best poem ever he said
straight from the heart

08 May 2008

Definition

Fulton Sheen said: "An atheist is a man who has no invisible means of support!"

From a menu

A blissful admixture of erotic herbs and spices.

20 April 2008

Image

John Updike writes: There is a way in which success disagrees with Christianity, and its proper venue is embattlement - a furtive hanging on in the catacombs, or at ill-attended services in dying rural and inner-city parishes. Its perilous, marginal, mocked existence serves as an image of our own, beneath whatever appearance of success is momentarily mustered.

13 April 2008

Recovery

"I got a pretty good education. It took me years to get over it!"

23 March 2008

Present

Christopher Merrill writes: If poetry is a form of listening to the inner workings of the language, then prayer is how we listen to the divine, which we imagine to be always present, if rarely heard.

22 March 2008

Equinox

Boredom

The real mystery of existence is that we become bored with it - bored, disappointed, frustrated, angry, violent.

Apprehension

Is there an indeterminacy principle at work in Being? Can Being be apprehensible and definable at the same time?

18 March 2008

rain all day

weatherman say
rain all day
rain all day
weatherman pray

word all day
teacherman say
teacherman say
word all day

makerman say
rainword say
makerman say
word dont say

word all day
teacherman say
teacherman say
word all day

makerman say
word dont pray
rainword pray
makerman say

weatherman say
rain all day
makerman say
rainword pray

City

Mind

said Napoleon, is the fifth element.

by the river

remembering
a trembling power
felt not seen
known not thought
flowing beyond the edge of mind

One morning

I woke very late, and it came to me that I knew nothing at all.

12 March 2008

the sun the blue sky

the sun the blue sky
the sun the blue sky

the mountain the road
the mountain the road

the road the red car
the road the red car

the mountain the road the cloud
the mountain the road the cloud

the cloud the thunder the rain
the cloud the thunder the rain

the mountain the road
the mountain the road

the mountain the red car the road
the mountain the red car the road

the road the red car
the road the red car

the road the red car
the road the red car

the road the sun the blue sky
the road the sun the blue sky

the sun the blue sky
the sun the blue sky

the sun the blue sky
the sun the blue sky

the sun
the blue
sky

the sun

the

blue

sky





10 March 2008

City

Theology

God is, and I am not.
I am, and God is not.