Joel Lewis

THE NOMAD'S APIARY

The particular song: Stockbridge two days ahead

of Yule. Red Lion Inn is a postcard... yes ...

& Norman Rockwell's home is aglow with ... yes...

& what do you see of me ... (Huh) : a man-shaped

hole in the world? Under the charms of difficiency, I hear

bush recordings of Albert Ayler, solo.

Nothing else for a puzzled face to see.

I fear the shame that empty pockets bring.

Pittsfield: a lone city lost

in fog. These are my eloquent halls.

This is where the rules are rearranged.

From here on: vending machine coffee

as the national beverage

of a burnt sienna world.

FROM A NORTH JERSEY SENSIBILITY

1.

It don't

        matter

who you

        vote for

thereallabunchacrooks,

anyways.

2.

I'll meet you

at the Bendix Diner

in a half hour,

then we can talk.

3.

Is this bus

going

to the Port-Authority?

4.

Let's all go

in your car

no reason

having two cars

going

to the same place.

5.

They give you so much

food there

that they

give you a doggie bag

without asking.

6.

(At a High School Reunion)

Bill, how have you been?

        I became a pharmacist.

        I took over the family pharmacy

        I'm not married & I still live home.

Bill, do you remember

the date-nut sandwiches

you gave me at lunch?

        The date nut sandwiches???

....................

Yeah! With cream cheese!

I remember the date nut sandwiches!

Yeah, the date-nut sandwiches!

NEO-ASPIC GRID

The parched thunk of Cumbria

bounces off the furniture. You have

moved in with the in-laws

as the bungalow gets built in Manasquan.

Man in a Timberland coat wields a toothpick

in the old manner. Start from "here",

next door's old vacant lot crisped

by snow. Rabbi to the British Empire, hello.

I am but a soothed pygmy.

Man-stealin', deep-south sister-in-laws

dominate the culture. "Can you

see me?", early Hendrix. I leave

that one there. Slow dazzle.

Swedish gasoline.