blog of poet, leah umansky

1.

Hanging the truth around your neck would be lovely. I just want to call it all out. I wish I had the word, but I don’t.

2.

In guiding human behavior, I’d ask for a whistle. A whistle, only you and small dogs could hear. In guiding; in behaving, or reserving space; eventually rises a scene of the domestic:

Birthing the modern domestic; birthing this day and that. It’s not the path that brings forth character; it’s the you. The you bring to it.  It would break you down, but not me.

*

The world lies to us.    Sure,                                                    sometimes.  

But, I won’t.                   I mean, I don’t.                     

3.

Getting sucked back is enough to cause a rash. To remember life was grated down, diluted, poached only to ooze all over these days.  It’s hard to stay in the present.

4.

In the morning separating of yolk and white, I am happy to have my own kitchen to dirty.           

© Umansky 2011  Follow @lady_bronte       

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Why O’Hara Would Have My Back

                                                So many beauties.  and  you thought New Yorkers

                                                were so friendly so hospitable; so open so kind.

                                                You thought this city was great for  bicyclists,

                                                but that we had a poor program for garbage 

                                                removal.

(You bet, we do !)

Why, out of a city of so many girls, did you have to turn up the charm on me.      

                                                                                                                        Well, you did good!

Maybe next time, you’ll actually try participating

For the Love of God!

                                                                                And maybe you’ll try to have a little heart,

Maybe learn to express yourself even at your ripe old age.

We all do bad things, but you were afraid.                                   (of what, you’re asking: that I’d scream at you?)

How pathetic!

Why that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard — what are we prehistoric?

                                                             Do we not have words and intelligence?

Man is still so dumb-founded and fruitless with his thumbs.      

                                (though, you actually used them with purpose)

If I had to hear one more time about how you can see the Empire State Building

from your window,                                              well,

                                                                                                I’d slash your curtains.

I’d make your bedroom the brightest of all the apartments on 2^nd avenue.

                                then,                       (are you scared?)                 then,

 I’d take all of your earplugs, and have a street party down below.

                                                                I’d pirate your sanity.         

I hate the way you’d gloat shit like:                                                 

                                                                                                                “I just ate a whole avocado

                                                                                                                while you were washing up.”

Yes. Yes, that’s terrific.                        (what are you, five?)

It’s true this is the City that never sleeps,

                                                                                                but I know how to knock myself out.               

I am done with the miserable.                                          

                                                I hope you enjoy the hellhole of the East Village at 3am.

Let the:

                 fire-engine screams and ambulance sirens

                forever deafen you; 

                                the fights of homeless people down on the street corner

                                forever frighten you;

                                                                the wafting of Indian curries up your fire escape

                                                                forever suffocate you,

                and the conversation about “growing a set”

                forever haunt you.

We pay a lot for who we allow into our lives.                 So Long!

                                                                                                                                                     Farewell!

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© Umansky 2011

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the roaring

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Fifths

1/  it was a far cry

not being mean

A quick search and

it’s astonishing

A fictional portrait:  we are all preoccupied.

The ritual:            follow this grain.

ever-this

ever-this

ever-that.

2/

we paddle out

bobbing

In the background:                          time-shifts

Lift this flap:_______________________                          and this: ____________

and this : ______________

Denote this as:                  background.

A quick search shows:                    a tangled truth

3/ a revolution:

we try

(we never try)

*

But         —             I tried

(I did)

I couldn’t be mean          —             (ever)

The ever-line blurs; bleeds; re-seeds.

In a true-to-life portrait:                I’d be a saint

4/ there’s the rub

oh, the irony.

Denote this to:  empty

low

any number of “NO’S!!!”

5/  no

when you said “no” to :

what didn’t even have time to happen

time-shifting time

to the background

to the ever-lineated

From a child’s view:  you let go.

All that bobbing / all that paddling

*

The days are tangled in me now

I am the ever-present.

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we collectively narrate

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This is True

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