Podcasts: December 2006 Archives

Absurd Gesture

Outside, the morning seems
as alive as it deserves to be.
I lean over the sink
and watch the children of 4th street
out the window, earthworms
sticking to the soles of their feet, trying
to catch sparse raindrops in their hands.

I seek out the tiny and quick
turning of their fingers, the swallows
in the wobbling oak’s limbs,
the squirrels at the roots un-holing
the earth, and the cricket’s song arched
like a strong grin above it all.

Everything alive, everything moving in its own direction.

And then there is you and I in the kitchen,
and the heaviness of eggs in the air,
the basset asleep at your feet.
There is me glancing at your dozing face,
and the sound of me trying
to shake the stillness from your eyes.

There is the sight of me acting
the way an absurd woman might,
if she was to chat with a mannequin.

This Is a Picture

of two sets of legs, in the coppery thickets
at the edge of a lake. A floral dress
is trying to escape the frame.

There is only the illusion of the glare and bolt of sun
as it is seen in the shine of four legs.
There is only the sense of lower forces, such as those
that ground the feet to the floor of a lake.

There is no suggestion of blood colored mountain stones,
no traipsing bodies, no birds east or west, no sign
that bones are being steadied by the crooked finned trout
circling the muddy roots at the toes.

No sign of the melancholy that finds its way
into late afternoons, even on the happiest days—
splitting itself at the knees,
the sun burnt tops of feet, and onward.

These poems originally appeared in the 10.3 (Spring 2006) issue of The 2River View

Toska

Toska

i went out again the other day looking for grandmother
on the internet & found toska feuchtbaum
instead, a 7-year-old girl, whose shy smile
was captured in the photo her father clutched
all those nights of not knowing, on the run.
the smile of surprise, perhaps a birthday party
later that day, not quite yet the end of vienna.
went out again the other day looking
for grandmother on the internet & saw
toska & her mother at the bahnhof
being shipped east to poland, held out till now.
same train as grandmother & grandfather:
the startled testimony of the photos of children
whispering shoah.
went out again, grandmother, looking
for you on the internet, & waited patiently
for the images to load on the browser.
this time it is the transit camp itself, typhus & all.
& still there is no word from you.

Toska, Again

this time, toska, i printed your picture off the internet
finding you, as i do, every time i go out looking
for grandmother.  toska feuchtbaum, born april 8, 1935
in vienna, austria.  that shy smile, fulfilling
the testimony of children’s destinies.
when i dare, i insert your image beside one
in my head of grandmother, & both of you
nod to the future.

Toska at the Banhof

peek at sobibor on infoseek
(knock, knock, is grandmother there?)
& find the cybrary at remember.org
all calling, all silent.
the water ripples, the sky shudders in response.
toska at the bahnhof, toska on the page
of children’s testimony (click on next ten, always
to the next citation) knock, knock, is
grandmother there? peek at sobibor
on infoseek, deportation statistics & the staccato
list of operation reinhard aktion dates.
toska at the collection point, grandmother
between the pages of a prayerbook
(daughter already escaped with photo)
peek at sobibor on infoseek
(toska & grandmother on the same load)
both last seen at the bahnhof:  vienna, may 12, 1942.

These poems originally appeared in the 10.3 (Spring 2006) issue of The 2River View