Ted Greenwald

Common Sense


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      AND, HINGES

      Fog hanged over the park, the night cold, and, clean

      against the tree you leaned in the sunlight, breathing

      he spinned the car out on fine gravel near the gate

      she laughing at the tree standing straggly over the fence.

      And, the drain clogs, when I shower, with my hair,

      queasily, paper rolling out of your handbag, glinting sequins,

      and, she stood, laughing over her shoulder by the spinning

      wheels

      ‟how do you get to the station, from here?”

      Skin smelling clean, after the shower, and, dark,

      merrily, tempting me to talk to you, and, asking if you’ve seen,

      and, turning to her friend, tall, and, skinny next to her,

      ‟Taking the first turning you come to in the book, and curve

      round it.” Warm moisture rising, I rise sluggishly,

      the latest news from Paris, tho I’ve never been there, calm

      ‟he never could control the damn thing, and, thinks he’s Fangio.”

      She knew better than to laugh, but she did anyway , laughing

      hide behind a tree, and, light bark late, keeping the neighbors late,

      and, you ask me ‟have you seen the latest news from Paris?”

      Out back someone mugging laughter , and, he thought over the

      problem

      to bust her gut. ‟Did you see that turning the horse made

      dog?”

      Hours arranged handily on the wrist, I scrutinize them,

      and, and tell you ‟I’ve never been there myself, have you?”

      How to get back on the road, and, keeping his hands intact.

      ‟Absolutely splendor, the light on shimmering her hand.”

      Hourly, and, after dinner they scrutinize me. ‟How we love,”

      and, you answer, ‟yes, dozens of times.” I look at my watch

      He’s such a bore. Always running around fast over the place.”

      She knew better than to know know better than his local hands,

      placed

      filling mail order slips, out, sleeping afterward in the down,

      and, you shiver, and, laugh, ‟it’s really terrible what’s happening!”

      how it sounds in reverse. Scared, and, the hairs turning prematurely

      gray, respectably, over the nearest sand mound in the pile

      pillow I puff up with my hand before the light goes out

      ‟oh yes, I agree, would you care to join me for lunch,”

      spun gravel rising under the wheels, and, him sitting. The clay

      lump

      she picked up some too, running it thru her veiled fingers

      in the fireplace. And, you say ‟you are thirsty,” and, I believe,

      and, you take my hand, handily switching your pursing lips

      to the other side clinging higher under the screech, and, wheel.

      And, she looked at him, blinking owlly back tears. And, they

      came anyway, you, and, ‟I am thirsty too, for more dinner wine”

      ‟not having any money, but wanting to speak to you so much.”

      ‟Who? Who? Does he think he is? Anyway?”

      She knew there was nothing to do but curve out the light ground

      under her, and several more candles to warm the room. To the other

      side of your mouth. ‟That’s okay, I love lunch in the park, anyhow.”

      His phantom figure stalking shadow after shadow after dark.

      And, cry til a little pool formed, and, she rose to go home.

      STOP FOR

      stop for

      a minute

      wait up

      for this

      friend to

      tick off

      its catching

      breath and

      draw parallel

      like two

      lines with

      two el’s

      the train

      of thought

      reaches the

      station in

      the Bronx

      or Queens

      the friends

      get off

      at and

      walk out

      of below

      onto the

      french tablecloth

      of sun

      in a

      black and

      white movie

      in one

      of those

      theaters with

      a sky

      NOTE TO A DUMB FRIEND

      how long’s it been

      since we last spoke

      there are infinitely less

      bridges left

      than last a lifetime

      weather’s finally gotten nice

      the sky in t-shirt

      how’s yourself the kids

      must be grown a lot

      since I last saw them

      has the job been working

      out all right everything

      ’s pretty much the same

      here, but a little better,

      if that makes any sense

      the sun’s on the scene

      the tiniest random bolt

      blocks away glows

      despite rust windows

      and brick take on a fire

      you wouldn’t expect

      this I’d miss if I was

      n’t here that, and

      dinner with friends

      you haven’t been down

      to see the apartment yet

      —the one I share—so I

      can only approximate the view

      the rent is nothing in

      comparison the state of

      the nation, body politic

      corrupt