from Dusk Bowl Intimacies

 

by Thomas Fink

 

 

 

 

Dusk Bowl Intimacies 36

 

 

Today all the goyim look so goy.  I’m afraid of the Italians, with those zaftig sideburns like revolvers.  “I shall be back to collect for another 4 weeks.”  A dowry to be ironed out—modern style, but still sensational.  Meanwhile, you can throw me in the corner of any place as long as I’m with my relatives.  Well, maybe we’re all New Yorkers.

 

Parched?

Use that   

money to be.

 

 

 

 

Dusk Bowl Intimacies 37

 

 

That isn’t my face.  I’m an old lady, close to a soup person, and it doesn’t matter.  “How old are you?  Pick any number.  I get to kiss you 49 times.”  With whom?  “Good: let ’em think.  Not that we’d be an odd couple.”  Hopefully, we’re dressed for it.  I must have something that people, when they suddenly glance at me in a room, they sometimes like the snapshot. One was looking at me steadily, and he knew quality when he saw it.  I think soon there’ll be some present.

 

Both

are dying

to sing me.

I

shall not

combine with any.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thomas Fink is the author of seven books of poetry, including Peace Conference (Marsh Hawk Press, 2011) and a book of collaborative poetry with Maya Diablo Mason, Autopsy Turvy (Meritage Press, 2010).  A Different Sense of Power (Fairleigh Dickinson UP, 2001) is his most recent book of criticism.