Sunday, February 1, 2009

Featured Writer: Alan King Day 3

Saturday Morning
Kingdom

And the Boulevard wakes
like a child -- rubbing its eyes,
stretching to greet first light.
But you're wide-awake with

the other silhouettes inside
a darkened theatre, and
all around you -- the loud
snapping of cellophane wrappers,

cookie dough candy and gummy
bears sweetening the air.
"How come you're always by yourself,"
your father asked once. His mind

so one-track women only exist
as cure-alls for everything, even
a work-week that pounds you
like a heavyweight.

But how do you explain the rush
you get from conquering that near-empty
dark space -- the throne-sized seats,
and jesters on a screen fit for a king?
____________________________________________

Proposition

Fred picks at his batter-
fried onions, shakes his head:
She said it would never work

with me; that I know too many
women.
An ex told you the same thing
before demanding you either
cut your play sisters loose or lose her

for good. And why does it always
come down to the final proposition,
as if life had a limit on possibilities?

And what happens when neither party
stops fighting the forces of arbitration?
Maybe you end up dateless on a Saturday night,
sharing appetizers with your boys

in a log cabin-style restaurant –
considering the symbolism
of a talking moose head on the wall.
__________________________________________________

The Meek

…the angels fall from heaven
…the day the earth stands still

-The System, "Don't Disturb This Groove"


like that night, skating around
a darkened rink with several
other silhouettes and Tanya
gripping my nervous hand

her skin glowing from
the purple "Couples" sign
and popping Bubblicious
behind her thick pink lips
was all I knew of beauty

and would probably be
the only time this chunky
12 year old would get
so close to divinity

to think this moment
seemed impossible,
or would be the closest
thing to knowing a man's
frustration for obsessing
the unattainable

but Tonya locking her
fingers with mine and smiling,
I'm convinced God grants
the meek a small taste
of their inheritance

like your cool older
cousins along the rail,
watching – grinning
and nodding: Yeah
I see you, playa