1
a woman
on the ground
convulsed her hand
in rapid motion
begging begging
earth against her back
her body hidden under
blackened cloth
2
without a tooth
left in his mouth
the man is prey
to hunger he is cold
& helpless
but the small bell
in his hand
the more it rings
the more the flies
move in
& seal his eyes
3
a city
whose inhabitants
are blind
they multiply
& fill your streets
then
when the night
has made them
mad
they hurry back
into the earth
true to their faith
4
the poem of begging
still eludes us
let us all address
our fathers
waiting for a hand
to pull us back
5
holy voices
cut like swords
above the city
amplified & roaring
over speakers
from a hundred turrets
like the bim bom
bells make
in the polish air
6
a beggar
crawling on his knees
over the metro floor
he says
I have a hunger
& the others
stare him down
these apparitions:
petals on a wet black bough
7
all beggars all thieves
all eager to escape the world
all locked in ice
all blind
all prisoners of their minds
all brothers
Rabat/Paris
July 2001
[This poem was recovered, along with numerous others, in the process of assembling a volume of otherwise Uncollected Poems, scheduled for publication by Mark Weiss & Junction Press.]
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