John Eivaz
55 Ginsberg
carbon ash smudge
on side of car
first thing i see
know the day
will be hot again
there's chips
of wood where
the tree was
where did that
smudge come from
where the tree
where the eyes
last year the chips waited
sun biding time
eye thought clearer
sunflower this sunflower that
sutra * flower * of industry
of the world ash
on cheap metal hot
day all longing entwined in ideal
sunflower unseen
read and remembered
how it is clean
bright inside unchanging
They are the Eggmen, I am the Buddha
it is true
that every moment
passed
is here in this one
in my life
that every moment to come
buttresses this one
is already
besides being
to come
it is true
like all else is true
the empty candy wrapper
the trophy the honor roll
the girl who didn't show
the guy who punched out your brother
the love of your slowly-silenced life
pleasure sure isn't overwhelming
but i'll take it
pain too
i won't fight about it
(it is true
if i had stayed on in new york
my sons would never have been)
born to die
that every moment of my life
lives in them
as it lives in me
it lives in you too
buttresses us
with all the fuss and bother
of intimate acquaintance
chance encounter
words remembered
born to die
perpetuity
is a dirty word
immortality ruse
for after
i
there is no more
before
i
there was nothing
and
i
am infinite waves of the everwideningsea
the water murders
the water floats us on to the dharma
buoys like gnats
beacons sins
the dharma
is nothing
nothing is nothing
is
is nothing
but this, this uncalculated unadorned rush of the waters and the spray
today yesterday tomorrow
i
we
call it love
i love you
i love all of my days you keep safe inside
i love the light that touches your smile
i love the face that smiles
i love the weight of your problems
i love how you try
i love your cradle
love your tombstone
love all the fucked-up stupid days and ways and all the i's
love yours and mine
love what we share
love
i create and kill
with all the ragged days that will be swept into the silent bin
all the within the plodding ploys all the rainbow's tears
all the was and will be
all this nothing loves you
asks you to forgive
i was am to come
nothing
nothing
nothing
i share with the nothing world
rocking me in the nothing cradle
lowered to the nothing grave
the nothing prayers i was taught
left to echo
nowhere
let me share my toys
these words are
bad habits
i won't break
they are in your life now
they tell me
keep your lamps trimmed and burning
as the grey halo silences the quick
jumps for the TV
tokes it up
ah the ocean
water does no wrong
we are all water
©2004 by John Eivaz
John Eivaz was born in New York and lives in California. He loves to
write, because it is the cheapest thing one can do for fun when one is broke. He writes a lot, and has been published online and in print in various places, including past issues of Slow Trains and its first print anthology. In past incarnations he was the editor of MiPo~Print and the poetry and flash fiction editor of the Erotica Readers and Writers Web site. His writing has been recognized online by the IBPC,
and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. He works at a winery. Read more of his work at the Web site he shares with P.J. Nights.
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