Some Vignettes of the Cast

An empty metal supermarket cart
on the sidewalk,
glistens wet under street lights,
this night, in the rain
Her confidence then, is meaningless
“Hey baby” “Don’t call me baby!
I ain’t no baby—I got a baby
of my own”
If grandma can do it, I can do it,
live to 83 on pure resentment, bile and vanity
May god save us all from the rank preachiness
of vile, pitiful, beaten old men
In that situation, you shouldn’t believe
what you see, but you will believe it...
Run, run, running— nothing gets to you, nothing
You’ll never catch me
There’s substitution for you
He accepts the privacy of her dreams
“Of course I know you (looking at her daughter)
you’re my sister...”
It used to be that booze alone
let her sleep, but death is there
Threats count more than opportunity,
that rare, unappreciated success
She has a sense of the good, mostly tribal
A strong-seated negligent disregard
for the horrors of life...
For his repeated, multiple failures
I can’t answer your question
I can only answer mine instead
“You know, you boys needn’t hang around
here anymore—I can die alone”
After awhile, you won’t hear it
It won’t go away, that resolute buzz
always there, but you won’t hear it
He thought he knew the boundary of her skills
Dazzled in his own brilliance,
what an ass…our flimsy memories
all of them true, these accounts are all true
The darkness won’t swallow him now
This isn’t a game of skill—
it’s a weirdly, ragged game of chance
In this luck-addled world
a tiny, slight prescience is brilliance
Cover all of the equipment, this factory’s dead
No one’s coming back here
The pledge of allegiance, the worship of the flag,
the cult of the war dead—he loved all that
It would be unwise to pet it—it’s vicious...
Her latest foray in dicey morals and bad style
She calls out for him, reaches for him and then...
she changes her mind
“His car was struck by a semi-trailer truck
after he lost control on a snow covered road near Elmira”
If only you could just by looking at a person
see them whole
It’s a kind of self-colonization—
you exploit yourself and all your friends
It’s like listening to a bunch of drunken salesmen
(we quietly exempt ourselves)
He told me he was just trying to do right,
to get it all right...
It’s all there—everything, dice, drugs, prostitution
all of it—you get caught in there, you might never get out



-February 26, 2012-