20161206

Michael Berton



Exhaustion & Hyperbole on The Ruta Maya


                                    reciprocity
                                                                    ends
         at the   c
                        u
                           r
                             v
                                e
                                     of thought
                                                        or 
                                                                item
                                                
                                      becoming
   complacent                                                            setting
                         on a point

                                     begin turnabout
                                       e
                                          y
                                             o
                                                n
                                                   d                         stimulus origen
   
       put back anew
                                 a nothing place
                                                              anonymous space  

                            t    r    a    n    s    i    t    o    r    y

                                      dialogues
              as glances                            never repeated

                                  identity passing                                  out s
                                                                                                    i
                                                                                                   d
                                                                                                    e
                                                sharing

                           p      a      r      a      l      l      e      l
                           i       n      f      i      n      i      t      y     



Statue with a Missing Penis
                (no penises were mutilated, mishandled, or over-stimulated during the writing of this poem)


Early harvest musing
                               on erotic hands spell
                                                             virile lustful satire

Dionysus cradles a wine jug
                               emptied in poetic reverie
                                                             satiated on the crushed grape.

Satyr holds up Dionysus
                               by his thick-veined penis
                                                             sculpted by the sweat of wine.

The body of Dionysus
                               swirls in a drunken bravado
                                                             gesturing a gruesome act.

Divine the hard flesh
                               caress scrapes a cut
                                                             blood drips from the vine.

Smeared crimson runs down
                               thighs of a castrated statue
                                                             solely gazing upon solitude.

Satyr admiringly lifts
                               Dionysus’ severed penis
                                                             from his wine soaked torso.

A hand molded virility
                               reconstructing the grape
                                                             vine for a new penis.

Vitality in torso of marble
                               crimson from the lips to the groin
                                                             lubricated by the sculptor.

Grapes before wine
                               hands gaze over buttocks
                                                             the tongue surveys rotundity.



Flash Fingers

      For Cecil Taylor

New York City
rumbling
everytime you play
in the Village
Five Spot
Fat Tuesdays
Sweet Basil
Knitting Factory
                The Irridium

with ninety minute sets
you horrified club owners
squares of white capital
requiring liquor breaks
for the hipster audience

you
so out there
out improvised
all those bebop
and hard bop
innovators who practiced
their lives on heroin
some
lost momentum
after a few vinyl gems
and touring with sub par
instruments and agents

you knew curiosity
took a lot of learning
gave the intellect
a chance to dance
as did cutting
contests in speakeasys
or an Ellington orchestra
shagging ballrooms

you dug the dexterity
prepping
for performative piano
strings stretched
percussive taut
your compositions
in the bustle
of drum snares
auras you spun
faster than winks
from Art Tatum
or Thelonious spinning
a trance

you listened
as to rupture
break
signify
and boast
all in one swoop

you alone
      and with Buell Neidlinger and Denis Charles
you alone
      and with Sonny Murray and Jimmy Lyons
you alone
      and with Andrew Cyrille and Alan Silva
you alone
      and you juju incantation
      digging the re-cognition

taking Europe
on a total music
bacchanalia

you were able to
regurgitate the rehearsal
posture the conservatory
on its alumni head

your youthful stamina
bent into grace
as an elder
gave you flash
in the fingers
cleansing preconceived notes
and perusing
the universal sound



The Riddle

why there’s Ornette

doing his habit
bad self
blowing
in concentric
chaos
as satori
cracks
quantum throw down
coiling heroic

angling alto ornate



Michael Berton is the author of Man! You Script the Mic. and No Shade in Aztlan. He lives in Portland, OR
 
 
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