graphics mode c r o s s X c o n n e c t previous | next

| main page
| issue contents
| contributors
| e-mail us
   a b a n d o n e d    r c a    b u i l d i n g s,    c a m d e n,    n j

--- D A N I E L   N E S T E R

 The corner of Cooper       and the Delaware River
 is stuck in between       my life and time
 The boarded-up buildings       with stained-glass Nippers
 echoes Caruso       early Sinatra
 but this time the darkness       simply looks back
 this time my life is       lost in fruit trees
 I have walked each street       in shards of denim
 I have watched my face       grow old tonight
 and I stand on this mound       and try to forget
 and continue to flourish       all passers-by
 a man gets a match       another directions
 a leashless dog       glimmers and breathes
 I preside on this corner       in sole ministration
 stumbling on rocks       to stickerbush patches
 I have no hankering       for occupied buildings
 I signal to inmates       up to the prison
 I flail with a speech       known only to wives
 I rumble and pass       the steel-latticed fences
 and wait for a single       decent idea
 And one came across       as one often does
 The night the clock tower       lit up a bit early
 out of synch with the sun       its superstrict schedule
 And for the minute possessed       my life in a shell
 the numbers behind       death being light
 and after the light       time being light
 Simple as that       the city hall tower
 was death and time       in tandem together
 was death and time       in darkness and light
 thinking of Whitman       dead by the river
 thinking of Rutgers       my pot-clouded lectures
 the years I spent here       sleeping and reading
 confusion at 20       whole brackets of time
 crying and fucking       in chorus together
 daytime malinger       staying inside
 and right before that       daylight despair
 that's what I said       daylight despair
 Please try to follow       just what I'm saying
 I found my old corner       utterly silent
 one string of lights        the invincible city
 I lived here once       a sad-faced apprentice
 I walked and returned       to silence my words

© crossconnect 1995-2001 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |