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Untitled he leaned against someone who cared enough to throw him in my cab.the other guy told me where to take him.i hated crippled drunks.they irritated my mind with silent insinuation, and their condition was a bribe to dredge out of me stupid thoughts about god. they always had to be carried, and they never knew where they were going or why.although i could understand that.it was a crosstown money ride. that's all i cared about.usually flat out crumpled drunks sloshed amoeba-like from one derelict bar to another.he was mumbling. it was raining and my old rusted windshield wipers were clanging.i readied myself not to help him out of the cab.i used to help cripples but i had stopped.i don't have to. "barbershop" was the only word i heard.his other noises were slops and drools.(was he going for a haircut at two in the morning or was he just going to sleep in a barber's chair?) he kept telling me to turn nowhere at all. i did that. i hoped he would get out.finally i just drove to 22nd avenue.a barbershop was there,but nothing anybody could live in.i didn't care. 'three bucks" i said wondering if he would get out of the cab o.k. or would fall on his head. he slurred a good bye, opened the door,and fell flat on his face. goddamn it goddamn it, i pounded the steering wheel. now i've got to help him. i lifted his misshapened body from the mud.two ten dollar bills flew out of his hand. we stood there. for a second i let go to see if he could balance himself.he toppled right towards me.i knew i was obliged now to go through all those absurd humane gestures. i held on to him and stretched like a first baseman for his money lying in the gutter. i put the money in his hand.when he felt the twenty dollars in his hand and another hand (maybe his father's) holding him, i saw ancient dead things revived in his eyes as if finally life was going to stop ignoring him. perhaps he felt gratitude.i suppose i felt bad that moment. smug deadness resting so comfortable within him.death waiting on leisure time to kill him. he began to lean towards me.he kissed me on the mouth. civilization had taught me to be afraid.i hesitated but let go of all my memorized lessons. a moment of love in my lifetime was a lifetime of violently denied love to him.in the rain i saw a tear and in the tear i saw myself;stone; inert;at the moment;standing more straight than he.i still couldn't figure out where he lived.i carried him to the darkened barbershop. i propped him up and he unlocked some door i hadn't seen.we were both drenched from the rain.he leaned against the building and we looked at each other. he painfully dragged some words of thanks out of himself. i heard them but had no words for him and with a casual wave of one hand he said he'd see me sometime i drove away feeling kind of good, but was aware he hadn't tipped me |
| Other poems: for devorah for devorah ii In My Dreams Poesy Syllogism Blues tuesday basketball "we are all trees in a forest" "Yes I died" |