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{fragments of delmore} howie good (Written after reading Delmore Schwartz: The Life of an American Poet by James Atlas) 1 “Into the Destructive Element. . . that is the way” scribbled on a bank deposit slip Your face like a broken plate hastily glued back together 2 Wine at night and gin from a jam jar during the day and your dead mother outside the window holding out a shriveled black raincoat to you 3 The kind of room set aside by the state for poets to die in girlie magazines winking from the floor and a raucous but insolvent crow riding on your shoulder 4 Your door was open so I glanced inside but all I could see was a stupendous blur as when the universe gets rushed off ding dong in a paddy wagon 5 Even with your head on Dexedrine fire beautiful women give you encouraging looks All art you tell the least damaged ones constantly aspires to the condition of light and then leaves shiver silver in the sun |
