BS Poetry and Random Vids

POETRY

“Weary Traveler”

If I could hear the sound drip drip
Of thy sideways eye
I would accept blindess, dumbess–
And no amount of yo’ lip
would deter me

For I am off to war
Not really, but I said thus
And you were moved, be it known
In the universe
As in thy neighborhood–all awoken by your ecstasy

Then a river gushed

Then a man gives you  a letter and you read it
“dear baby-kakes, I am stationed afar, please don’t expect my return”
Only I’m not at war
As I said before

I am only  a traveler
A gambler, if you will, who needs
an inn for the night, in your town
And a pillow between your thighs

The last he heard from her was March. Was it raining then? Yes, he remembers getting up one day and looking out, the repressed foliage looking dank after a winter of snow; and the whole scene looking not like Boston, but reminded him of the locale in Robert Altman’s McCabe and Mrs. Miller, up in the mountains of Washington.

He had no idea whether or not her promise to show his work was genuine or else she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.  But it would be doubly worse were that true, because if she lied to him, he would have one more good reason to end their relationship, and as tentative as their relationship was in reality, he still shuddered at the thought of being totally single again. Of not having that life buoy out in the waters.

As things were in the Summer of 99′ he already struggled with seeing beautiful women in the street and realizing he didn’t have one when he got home. He would have to actually snag one, was his revelation. He shuddered more at that than anything.

Ever since that woman cried rape, it really did a number on our fellow. The way that story goes, as he told it to no one in particular on the bus one time:

“But uh, I give the fucking survey to this Indian mom.” (at the time Paren was working at a mega-department store handing out customer surveys)

“I tell her she can do the survey at home or at the computers by the entrance, the only difference is that if she does them at the computers I get a bonus, well, not a bonus (which is true, I get jack shit), but I might not get fired. She seemed uncomfortable by this kind of non-professional talk from her cashier. I should have taken notice. Because the look she gave me later—holly shit. It was like I told her she had 24 hours to deliver the rent or else I would rape her daughter in front of her husband. What happened was that she came back to correct a price error on the receipt, and after I did that I asked her if she was sure she didn’t want to do the survey. She said no, in a shy-ish, bothered way, and I thought it would be funny if I told her, ‘did I mention I think you have gorgeous eyes.’ Then the look. Just talking about this makes me gag. Ugh. She really looked like I had violated her, then she shuffled off, leaving me to wonder if anyone else caught that exchange. In the end, I say, fuck her for making me feel bad. All I said was her eyes were pretty, right?”

Paren would later have a similar;y embarassing episode at Brighton Beach, when he tried to smoke pot on the sand and then imagined his burly Brooklyn co-patriots were glaring at him disapprovingly, which they probably were.

…

Ever wonder how you get good at Parkour?