The Fury Of Cooks

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1. The Fury Of God's Goodbye One day He Tipped His top hat And walked Out of the room, Ending the argument. He stomped off Saying: I don’t give guarantees. I was left Quite alone Using up the darkness I rolled up My sweater, Up in a ball, And took it To bed with me, A kind of stand-in For God, […]...
2. Susie My daughter Susie, aged two, Apes me in every way, For as my household chores I do With brooms she loves to play. A scrubbing brush to her is dear; Ah! Though my soul it vex, My bunch of cuteness has, I fear, Kitchen complex. My dream was that she might go far, And play […]...
3. Helen all Alone “In the Same Boat” A Diversity of Creatures There was darkness under Heaven For an hour’s space Darkness that we knew was given Us for special grace. Sun and noon and stars were hid, God had left His Throne, When Helen came to me, she did, Helen all alone! Side by side (because our fate […]...
4. Quebec -1908 Of old, like Helen, guerdon of the strong Like Helen fair, like Helen light of word, “The spoils unto the conquerors belong. Who winneth me must win me by the sword.” Grown old, like Helen, once the jealous prize That strong men battled for in savage hate, Can she look forth with unregretful eyes, […]...
5. The Fury Of Overshoes They sit in a row Outside the kindergarten, Black, red, brown, all With those brass buckles. Remember when you couldn’t Buckle your own Overshoe Or tie your own Overshoe Or tie your own shoe Or cut your own meat And the tears Running down like mud Because you fell off your Tricycle? Remember, big fish, […]...
6. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
7. The Fury Of Sunrises Darkness As black as your eyelid, Poketricks of stars, The yellow mouth, The smell of a stranger, Dawn coming up, Dark blue, No stars, The smell of a love, Warmer now As authenic as soap, Wave after wave Of lightness And the birds in their chains Going mad with throat noises, The birds in their […]...
8. The Fury Of Beautiful Bones Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather. Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love. Oh sing, bone bag man, sing. Your head is what I remember that Augusty You were in love with another woman but […]...
9. The Fury Of Abandonment Someone lives in a cave Eating his toes, I know that much. Someone little lives under a bush Pressing an empty Coca-Cola can against His starving bloated stomac, I know that much. A monkey had his hands cut off For a medical experiment And his claws wept. I know tht much. I know that it […]...
10. The Fury Of Hating Eyes I would like to bury All the hating eyes Under the sand somewhere off The North Atlantic and suffocate Them with the awful sand And put all their colors to sleep In that soft smother. Take the brown eyes of my father, Those gun shots, those mean muds. Bury them. Take the blue eyes of […]...
11. The Fury Of Flowers And Worms Let the flowers make a journey On Monday so that I can see Ten daisies in a blue vase With perhaps one red ant Crawling to the gold center. A bit of the field on my table, Close to the worms Who struggle blinding, Moving deep into their slime, Moving deep into God’s abdomen, Moving […]...
12. The face that launch'd a thousand ships Was this the face that launch’d a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is […]...
13. The Fury Of Rainstorms The rain drums down like red ants, Each bouncing off my window. The ants are in great pain And they cry out as they hit As if their little legs were only Stitche don and their heads pasted. And oh they bring to mind the grave, So humble, so willing to be beat upon With […]...
14. The Fury Of Cocks There they are Drooping over the breakfast plates, Angel-like, Folding in their sad wing, Animal sad, And only the night before There they were Playing the banjo. Once more the day’s light comes With its immense sun, Its mother trucks, Its engines of amputation. Whereas last night The cock knew its way home, As stiff […]...
15. The Fury Of Sunsets Something Cold is in the air, An aura of ice And phlegm. All day I’ve built A lifetime and now The sun sinks to Undo it. The horizon bleeds And sucks its thumb. The little red thumb Goes out of sight. And I wonder about This lifetime with myself, This dream I’m living. I could […]...
16. The Fury Of Sundays Moist, moist, The heat leaking through the hinges, Sun baking the roof like a pie And I and thou and she Eating, working, sweating, Droned up on the heat. The sun as read as the cop car siren. The sun as red as the algebra marks. The sun as red as two electric eyeballs. She […]...
17. The Fury Of Earth The day of fire is coming, the thrush, Will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket, The beetle will sink like a giant bulldozer, And at the breaking of the morning the houses Will turn into oil and will in their tides Of fire be a becoming and an ending, a red fan. What then, […]...
18. THE FREEBOOTER No door has my house, No house has my door; And in and out ever I carry my store. No grate has my kitchen, No kitchen my grate; Yet roasts it and boils it Both early and late. My bed has no trestles, My trestles no bed; Yet merrier moments No mortal e’er led. My […]...
19. The Fury Of Guitars And Sopranos This singing Is a kind of dying, A kind of birth, A votive candle. I have a dream-mother Who sings with her guitar, Nursing the bedroom With a moonlight and beautiful olives. A flute came too, Joining the five strings, A God finger over the holes. I knew a beautiful woman once Who sang with […]...
20. The Fury Of Jewels And Coal Many a miner has gone Into the deep pit To receive the dust of a kiss, An ore-cell. He has gone with his lamp Full of mole eyes Deep deep and has brought forth Jesus at Gethsemane. Body of moss, body of glass, Body of peat, how sharp You lie, emerald as heavy As a […]...
21. Another barbeque tonight It rained throughout the night, a truly welcome sound That eases sleep although we barely slept – we were Distressed by other things. Today the kitchen’s centre ring, The kitchen of Anita’s dreams. It’s had a long gestation, Twenty years it’s taken just to reach this actual day (that’s in This iteration, there’s been some […]...
22. Grass The living room is overgrown with grass. It has Come up around the furniture. It stretches through The dining room, past the swinging door into the Kitchen. It extends for miles and miles into the Walls. . . There’s treasure in grass, things dropped or put There; a stick of rust that was once a […]...
23. For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Further Not that it was beautiful, But that, in the end, there was A certain sense of order there; Something worth learning In that narrow diary of my mind, In the commonplaces of the asylum Where the cracked mirror Or my own selfish death Outstared me. And if I tried To give you something else, Something […]...
24. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
25. Digging Between my finger and my thumb The squat pin rest; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where […]...
26. Clothes Put on a clean shirt Before you die, some Russian said. Nothing with drool, please, No egg spots, no blood, No sweat, no sperm. You want me clean, God, So I’ll try to comply. The hat I was married in, Will it do? White, broad, fake flowers in a tiny array. It’s old-fashioned, as stylish […]...
27. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
28. What Would I Give What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through, Instead of this heart of stone ice-cold whatever I do! Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all. What would I give for words, if only words would come! But now in its misery my spirit has fallen […]...
29. Again The children are back, the children are back- They’ve come to take refuge, exhale and unpack; The marriage has faltered, the job has gone bad, Come open the door for them, Mother and Dad. The city apartment is leaky and cold, The landlord lascivious, greedy and old- The mattress is lumpy, the oven’s encrusted, The […]...
30. Camping in a kitchen To say we’ve done it all before is not to bend The truth and though we’ve lost our youth The vision of the bright contemporary kitchen Draws us on, sustaining us beyond our strength. It’s all the donkey work that palls upon the weary joints, The stripping off of stubborn tiles, the cupboards With reviled […]...
31. A Poem for Will, Baking Each night he stands before The kitchen island, begins again From scratch: chocolate, cinnamon, nutmeg, He beats, he folds; Keeps faith in what happens When you combine known quantities, Bake twelve minutes at a certain heat. The other rabbis, the scholars, Teenagers idling by the beach, They receive his offerings, In the early hours, share […]...
32. Name of a Tree Some days I am Ana’s teacher, some days she is mine. This morning, we look through her kitchen window, The one she can’t get clean, cobwebs massed Between sash and pane. The sky is blue-gold, almost The color of home. Ana, I say, each winter I get more lonely. Both of us would like the […]...
33. XXXIV (You are the daughter of the sea) You are the daughter of the sea, oregano’s first cousin. Swimmer, your body is pure as the water; Cook, your blood is quick as the soil. Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth. Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise; Your hands go out to the earth […]...
34. SECOND POEM Morning again, nothing has to be done, maybe buy a piano or make fudge. At least clean the room up for sure like my farther I’ve done flick the ashes & butts over the bed side on the floor. But frist of all wipe my glasses and drink the water to clean the smelly mouth. […]...
35. Ode To Tomatoes The street Filled with tomatoes, Midday, Summer, Light is Halved Like A Tomato, Its juice Runs Through the streets. In December, Unabated, The tomato Invades The kitchen, It enters at lunchtime, Takes Its ease On countertops, Among glasses, Butter dishes, Blue saltcellars. It sheds Its own light, Benign majesty. Unfortunately, we must Murder it: The […]...
36. Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain Oh, gray and tender is the rain, That drips, drips on the pane! A hundred things come in the door, The scent of herbs, the thought of yore. I see the pool out in the grass, A bit of broken glass; The red flags running wet and straight, Down to the little flapping gate. Lombardy […]...
37. Transcription Of Organ Music The flower in the glass peanut bottle formerly in the kitchen crooked to take a place in the light, The closet door opened, because I used it before, it kindly stayed open waiting for me, its owner. I began to feel my misery in pallet on floor, listening to music, my misery, that’s why I […]...
38. Clean Hands IT is something to face the sun and know you are free. To hold your head in the shafts of daylight slanting the earth And know your heart has kept a promise and the blood runs clean: It is something. To go one day of your life among all men with clean hands, Clean for […]...
39. Japanese lullaby Sleep, little pigeon, and fold your wings, Little blue pigeon with velvet eyes; Sleep to the singing of mother-bird swinging Swinging the nest where her little one lies. Away out yonder I see a star, Silvery star with a tinkling song; To the soft dew falling I hear it calling Calling and tinkling the night […]...
40. THE TRAVELLER AND THE FARM~MAIDEN HE. CANST thou give, oh fair and matchless maiden, ‘Neath the shadow of the lindens yonder, Where I’d fain one moment cease to wander, Food and drink to one so heavy laden? SHE. Wouldst thou find refreshment, traveller weary, Bread, ripe fruit and cream to meet thy wishes, None but Nature’s plain and homely dishes, […]...