Sunday, November 06, 2005

Poetry by Danny Gentile

Matters of State





give strange

adapted words

& raise a glass

You demand

an upstanding

audience that

race through

the vestibule of

a 5 star hotel

chasing another

Pick me! Pick Me!

from childhood

You offer a toast

words like dice

words of focus

runes in ash

& an exotic


from a case

neither ornate

nor austere

Your appearance

Raison Detre for

a special event

The acclaimed

Cause Celebre

of the moment

Ice sculpture

smoking under

a chandelier


You there!

You there!

Coining a phrase.

Your there?

How about

one for the


One for

the ladies??

How about

I ask you

for a change?

The moment

was never

self evident

with you

far too busy

arranging poise

Let’s not

get ahead

of ourselves

means: don’t

complain you

have no choice

the thinker delivers

the clown destroys


Through days of sorrow

& iron-cast brow, nights

of water unsettle dreams

to sweat the day open

& drag its furrow over

faces that languor there.

Every face is anguishing

staunch expressions of

appraisal & approximate;

all very well in waiting

for night & its further

hinged apprehension.

Light opens onto you in

fish-tanks from it’s bulb.

You are not the same under

every differing filament.

The city carries pages that

drink from the overflow

as if it were a stream,

not slopping stagnation

jarred in this. You swallow

fish; an irksome action

offers them as coins that

only flounder against all

that is real & rational.

You plead waters to abate,

but little ever comes of it.

Night & day are relentless

& the pavement a fist that

hardens you down. Scales

have flaked to nothing

but dreams that carry you

uncertainly & carry you

in arms of automation

to where the field still

cries in echo for the rain.

Danny Gentile 2005

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