Downtown Poet

Downtown Poet

writing from a cheap apartment

with the hefty drapes frequently

                pinched shut

to boast in obscurity

the Irish Catholic Boy

the Novel Rimbaud

                sinuous rust-red hair

                notched cheekbones

stupidly skinny

his sloppy scrawl on napkins

with a leaky ballpoint pen

                imposing digressions

                panoramic prophecy

gritty punk rock

hip-hop/no-wave

alleyway swagger

poetic propensities

reads reams of Rilke backwards               

                & bottoms out

                just to transcend

as an ephemerist

a downtown poet

in a Chelsea coffee shop

always too late for breakfast

                but always early to the

side-spoon Shangri-La

it is that complicated sort of grief

to run with a gaggle of eccentrics

the comical foil

& then die a death void of ecstasy

**

It's poetry month! I've been avidly writing it, reading it and buying it up. On Saturday I took a road trip with my best bud to the South Shore and spent a little time nosing around in Lexicon Books in Lunenburg. It had a handsome poetry section and indications of the April celebration. I purchased a copy of 'Lunch Poems' by Frank O'Hara. Ironically so because it's been sitting on my Amazon wishlist since binge-watching 'Mad Men' (for the second time). It was meant to be. 

I will be congregating at City Hall with the Open Heart Forgery crew tonight for their annual reading. I have five poems printed and tucked in my bag. I will only read two and like other years, will choose at the 11th hour (the above poem is included in my pile). I am looking forward to being in a room with like-minded folk, word smiths, creatives. I live for this stuff. Great way to start a week and end a busy Monday at the work desk.

Happy Poetry Month!

Write one! Read many! All poets! 

In propinquity, 

Nic