Adam Golaski
A Boston Poem

 

Th’first person
             exiled
from China-
town

Not’round
             here
anymore

laughing on
th’ledge’v’a Yellow
truck.

You’ve caught up
w/’im
roller      skating
comic book

displaced from one
race
to another

Hav’a dry
stripe
put down
on th’theater.

A retarded guide’nd
pages.
The

jeune fils’as learned
never
t’look up.

 

Elizabeth Torpey

 

Most’v us:
How d’we fill our days?
N’increments
n’increments.

N’increment’nd rolling reverie
while searching for’lizabeth Torpey.

Saw Elizabeth working

th’words come t’r n’increments,
n’increments across a page.

Work w/’n’nd w/’t paper where
th’words lost long th’limit

cursive’nd perfect, Elizabeth.

Saw increments, saw Elizabeth.

Temple t’delicate symmetry
celing’nd low’inter light.

Travel light.
Subway train w/out’a notebook.
Dream’v’r advice, We.
Elizabeth             Torpey.

 

Ruby Earring

 

ruby earring
fake or not
little red
jewel-light

hair swept up
away
from ear

Th’light in th’room is
rural peril
low.

Whom as sister
wha-what enough
preoccupied
the last of the English
sections

red light
shirt-cuff stripe
fist
t’temple.

Her smile
is like
a ball’v
aluminum foil

 

Smoke

 

Th’corner
where
th’ceiling
meets
th’wall =

mends like a kiss

rises like dust

smoke
up sunlight
a column

Where skin doesn’t matter
bodies cascade into
subway stations
cars stopped for
a bloody look

left for our hands
we drink

and

we drink

 

The Little Girl's Paper

 

On th’east
coast
is
a little girl
w/’a box’v paper

a beam of wood
a bat’nd frozen
rose
tea leaf.

Africa
Minnesota
supplies for’a
faithful
weaver’s
sleeping hot sweat.

Little girl
you
r
book is
showing:
Spotted eye tooth owl.

As tall’s
asparagus,
a thwizzle ina
glass—
rain’n
neat notebook.

Little girl
suffers
chart-rash
graph-nobbin
paper, swollen.

Th’east
pregnant
w/ water.
A tender nipple
she knows
sprays
swollen
oxygen.