H e a r t   S o n s   &   H e a r t   D a u g h t e r s   of   A l l e n   G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m   H e a l t h   S p a :   R e p o r t   2 0 1 4 :   A r c h i v e s   E d i t i o n

 

 

DAVID COPE

 

Five Singers on the Ends of Night 

 

1.

hips weave & slip among

softlit floor lamps sway

around the loveseat slide

 

over lineolum—she poses

one hand on breast,

pirate with wiggling hips—

 

content with that too even

dancing solo (psyche-

delics in her past?

 

visions nightmares soft

dreams languid lovers

dancing on the iguana's

 

eyelid?  songs built on

a rattlesnake's tail, the eagle

above in a cloudless sky?

 

Sunset in the saguaros,

the desert's languid dream

going, no place to go—yet she goes.

 

 

2.

winding toward his

sorrow struggling

to say it, she's gone

 

she's gone she's

gone:  curtains closed

in the great room,

 

the dog asleep by

the still-warm coals,

the fading fire.

 

what tambourines

in the distant dark?

who sings under

 

the streetlamp under

the jagged peak as

a crescent moon hangs

 

beyond the single

thin cloud, last yellow

fading to deep blue?

 

 

3.

smoky deep night blue rattling train distant shout long hours passing like taxis loaded

with musicians in white suits snapbrim hats, bright women in silk, the long deep sigh

 

of a simple goodbye and "hiya! what's kickin' where we take it now?"  hope in a quick

glance, breath still clinging to lost dreams that floated in with last night's fog & vanished

 

with a light wind, what gliding shadows melting in the brownstone dark, what sighs

sliding thru those dark windows what silent singer alone, listening, his heart a drum?

 

 

4.

shadowy city smokes at dawn,

dark towers red beacons,

fierce clouds blowing up thru

stacks at Chemical #5—

 

roaring traffic brakelights all

up to the horizon—so many

racing to their deaths jobs

grinding them over the limits

 

go go go right up thru towering

windows shrieks in pearl light

cops racing thru scattering

pigeons to find the corpse

 

rolled in old blanket beneath

the stairway where the bankers

ascend to their private doorways,

turn & look back, aeromeds

 

churning in sharp light to land

on a distant hospital roof new

light another day come at last

horns echoing the en masse charge.

 

 

5.

early

she makes her

way down

stairs, lost

again in her own skull—

 

lavender flowers swaying

 

slightly in the breeze—

 

 

her lover

gone, gone, gone

forever

 

what she'd dreamed in the dark, so many silent rooms

 

lost conversations

 

fingers touching for a brief

 

moment by candlelight.

 

her gaze

turns to

 

the stained-glass lily in the front window,

 

to the couch

where they'd first

 

declared their love and sang the delirious

 

dreams

 

their hearts had borne in silence

 

too long.

 

 

[Originally published in NHS 2006, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs06/Cope.htm.]