Uncollected Poems (8): A Poem of Beggars

1

a woman
on the ground

convulsed her hand
in rapid motion

begging begging
earth against her back

her body hidden under
blackened cloth

2

without a tooth
left in his mouth

the man is prey
to hunger he is cold
& helpless

but the small bell
in his hand

the more it rings
the more the flies
move in

& seal his eyes

3

a city
whose inhabitants
are blind

they multiply
& fill your streets

then
when the night
has made them
mad

they hurry back
into the earth

true to their faith

4

the poem of begging
still eludes us

let us all address
our fathers

waiting for a hand
to pull us back

5

holy voices
cut like swords
above the city

amplified & roaring
over speakers
from a hundred turrets

like the bim bom
bells make
in the polish air

6

a beggar
crawling on his knees
over the metro floor

he says
I have a hunger
& the others

stare him down
these apparitions:
petals on a wet black bough

7

all beggars all thieves
all eager to escape the world

all locked in ice
all blind

all prisoners of their minds
all brothers

Rabat/Paris
July 2001

[This poem was recovered, along with numerous others, in the process of assembling a volume of otherwise Uncollected Poems, scheduled for publication by Mark Weiss & Junction Press.]