EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE
You
have the right to lose everything.
Look at my shoes.
I
am not telepathic.
I don’t pass out Viagra to the troops.
The
fox
Sits like Buddha
Across the alley
From a meth lab.
Every once in a while
You run out of film.
That’s when the greats
Do their best.
“How
you gonna get around in all that smog?”
Friends
in Hong Kong ask.
Spring lightning divides the air.
My
scenes are as empty as space.
You
never know
If someone’s
Gonna pull a Claude Rains
Because it doesn’t happen
That you see them clearly
Until the end of the film.
Not a few wrong bets are made.
I
make no apologies for my poems, myself.
There’s nothing else.
The
sun
Climbed
up the window
And lit up your eyes.
5
June 2011
Spoken word
version from Commune, copyright ©
2013 by Jim Cohn.