poemimage

Where text meets image. Where the visual intersects the literary.

Category: non-fiction prose

page 62

My father brought home FBI WANTED POSTERS his friend, the agent, gave him. I spread them out on the bed and frightened myself with aliases, previous crimes, and last known locations. What is white slavery? He has a bazooka? The square inked fingerprints looked like Neolithic patterns connected to the criminal’s inner mind. Photographs were specific yet vague. He could be at the music store, in line at the Frozen Dairy stand. If a car slowed down, surely one of the most wanted had followed me – possibly for hours.

from my book Meme-Noir (2019)

Towers of Cake in Byzantium

I meet an old friend for coffee and cake

we discuss the symmetry of

consequence, the coincidence of

symmetry.

After we stand on the corner

I visit two bookstores

near one another in The Annex,

mostly second-hand

books I will thumb through

a hundred times (knock on wood)

finding inspiration

sifting subconscious & mythological elements

a chapter here, chapter there

traipsing the curvilinear imagination.

Birds fly low magnetized by subterranean quartz

wings whoosh, swooshing

miraculously, above the roar of wind,

I hear their soft instruction.

A young person, in motion a river,

photographs the books

over my shoulder.

Humming a tune

I contemplate pages

on the subway train.

Or so it seems, the way she steadies her phone

visible out the corner of my eye –

my station approaches.

I said this image is four, maybe, or five-thousand years old

she said I saw the books.

She said something, maybe, what

she read or might be reading.

Maybe she mentioned Byzantium.

I understood barely anything almost nothing,

with her speaking through a mask,

the subterranean ambient noise,

additional my normal hearing trouble.

She repeats a word, I tilt my head

like a bird

darting

the door embellished with golden mosaic tiles,

sliding closes in my face.

A vast dimension

composed of light-years

descends upon me.

The sound of her mystery words

accentuates her aura

like a river in motion.

I repeat rhyming words

the consequence of symmetry

the symmetry of coincidence.

Thank you, she said.

I dart for the door again

climbing tiled stairs

beneath vast archways

tasting cake.

Birds swoop above & below a quartz-river

flowing from the sun.

The Idea of the Book in the Middle Ages: Language Theory, Mythology and Fiction by

Jesse M. Gellrich –

Sun, Moon and Standing Stones by John Edwin Wood –

Inside the Neolithic Mind by David Lewis-Williams & David Pearce –

A Search for Cave and Canyon Art: Voices From the Stone Age by Douglas Mazonowicz – (signed by the author)