Mark Levine

This Was No

That is tough meat to chew

“I say” “on reflection,” that is a screaming man

“Tears” “cascading” down his fallen face

Onto his bib, “drunkard,” “lizard,” “corpse”

Sprung from a vault in the courtyard

Near the scrapyard where Mr Chapnik’s

Magnetized hooks sway past sun and moon

Telling time with their yardstick.

My mirror gleams with deodorant soap

Chicken skin. “One must” prepare the floor

For adult tumbling competition, preemptive

Squats, lunges, planks, servile

Crunches and “pelvic rage”

To satisfy one’s sponsor’s

“Obligatory” “rate-paying” “terms.” You ask if my

Character “starved”?

“Was starved”? Was fit to fit

Into a hand-me-down shovel-swinger’s coveralls

“Under whose auspices?”—Coaches, trainers

Medical staff, custodians, forepersons

At the “athlete’s dormitory,” “this was no”

“Case of ‘self-starvation,’” complains

My bandy little man, well-marbled beefcake,

Champion of the iron rings

And flexible steel rod, who passes “free time”

“Wandering” the grounds

Vying with his homemade fork

For tender morsels

Neglected of dogs.

Public Shower

“Getting” what can be “gotten”

“Being the seller” “under the circumstances”

Under an awning in alternating bands

Of rain and fire, fog, acid, sentiment, white ash

“Forgetting” one’s “slicker” “at home,” one’s rain boots

We “transport” “our goods” downstream

With “tonight’s supper” in the basket

“Fresh from the sea,” bones, guts

“Hot from the earth,” skin on, eyes peeled

Dressed with “this,” “that,” “other add-ons”

Embedded in the “all-inclusive price”

The voice spoke of with its stammer and knife.

Then we waited at “the baker” “uselessly.”

Then we lugged our bottle to the “tap”

Beneath which “children” “splashed”

And “women” “wrung the wash”

“And though our thirst was not urgent”

We “took turns” “helping ourselves,” “took our fill”

“Do you even know how much this costs”

“Do you even look at the price before buying”

We were busy with “the customer,” “can’t you see”

Clean-up was “in progress,” “dirty dishes”

“With the burnt stuff” “that can’t be scrubbed out”

And the “gunk” in the “public shower,” still

“Our efforts” were “unrewarded,” unrecorded

Unpaid-for, “unreciprocated,” unloved

“Keeping to ourselves,” we were “getting on” with suitcases

“Packed” to get “up and be gone”

Inhaling “our freedom”

“To be” “the landlord,” to “put a price on”

“Eyeglasses,” “muscle” “relaxants,” “skin” “creams,” “musk”

“Look at yourself in the mirror, Sir or Madam”

While we “adjust our face”

In our private get-up

On the north end of the six-sided roundabout

On the “main artery” from “there” to “there”

Alongside notaries and registrars, brokers

Donors, assurers, “buried” “conduits” as “the smoke”

Approaches, lifting prices

As the blaze shifts, coming from behind

“Like we like it”

Kiosk

“I’ll get mine” when

The bottles air out on the “drying rack”

And “the nozzles” have been “tightened”

To the “off” position, hissing gone quiet

“Baby” sleeps, “we’ll get ours,” “finally”

On the morning of the “great exchange”

One of theirs for one of ours, one of mine

Who can tell apart these knobs, copper-plated

Tradesman’s “jargon” and grunts

Flexing a finger here, a wrench there

“Who can feel” the difference down below

We were in a tub with the scrub brush, lullaby, like

We were in a “swift-flowing” “stream,” “swatting”

At an “overhanging branch” and “all manner”

Of “matter” swills past, “personal” “newsprint”

“Cereal boxes,” “a carved otter” and “other” “family” “knickknacks”

Dish detergent, “ultimately” we were in a “sea”

“Where no land was,” without our gear, “bobbing”

One up, one down, kicking the other awake/afloat

“With information re:” “the past,” “real estate,” “deli sandwiches,” “intercourse” but

“Hunger and thirst” gave us “the squeeze” “yet again,” we raise

Our gas-can skywards “like a plea,” following instructions

We “wait in line” single-file with our bags and “intention”

Of “taking our seat,” “finding our way,” “fixing the location”

Of birthplace, home place, “place of worship”

“Family furniture store,” dry goods vendor, “temporary” “kiosk”

At the dark end of the railway dock

Where our shipment awaits us in a “box”

On the counter, “labelled” for us, glued shut, “this side up”

Lifting from below, “bending the knees”

Facing forward, stumbling back to the door

One leg on the steps, one kicking the wall

“The contents” “shift”

Within