Harold Rhenisch
Poetry Reference
West, 1993. ISBN:
1-895362-19-9 5.5 X 8.5 24 p. $10, regular edition.
$20 for one of 10 hand-sewn copies.
"It is strange to be
made into a myth while I'm still
alive!"
Robin
Skelton
THE
UNDERGROUND ART REVIEW, first number
Ezra bounded down, animated, long-legged, from rock to rock, through all the stunted grasses, the tiny, fiery flowers, excited, like Pan, down from the steep, shale slopes, above the Aegean, the sea stretching, below him, like the sky. I likd the way the Tyds came IN over the strEEtz in VENice. The fissh usedta flUtr silvR n bluewww ovr th coBBlz SwimmM rite pAst yu syu wlkd oWt. The hole siteee smelld like th SEEE, like ANeee miNutt th hay-iz ws gointA LIFTT awf n yud be staNNDing tharrr IN th mARshes, th lite ovR yu like yu cd TUch it. Robin had his head in his lap, pulling golden straws of grass out of his beard. As if each was a red-hot piece of wire, he brushed them off quickly onto the ground. They faded slowly; a whole scattered field of thin flames around him in various stages of decay, a deep, detailed, downward movement. "Of course you can touch the light." Yuv got yr HAnds back AWn! Ezra plunked himself down and took one of Robin's hands in his. HauughH! "Why do you always get to be the straight man?" Robin spread his fingers wide: each one was a sow's bristle brush. He fanned them out likkkke a peacock's tail, slowly, there before him. "You seen any paint here?" Paynnnt? Payynnnnttt? Ezra reached into his pocket and drew up a crusty rind of bread. Wall, Naw, but TharZ THIS. He held it out to Robin softly. Here I cnt YOOS this anYMOWER. Yu still can. U miteaswell tay-ik it. Robin's eyes rolled up, to look at him. Ezra bent down and thrust the crust forward. HERE. "Sure could use some paint." Robin brushed the bread away and dipped his right forefinger into his mouth. When he pulled it out it was vermillion. He stuck in his thumb, and pulled it out&emdash;cadmium white: like a feather on the edge of his hand. He began to brush his cheek. "Mmmmmmmm." Stawp thaht! Ezra slumped back. Itz Wuhds. Jest wuds. Dars no DAMN THINNG but wahds. I'm SICK of ttthEM naw-OH!!!! Robin brushed the feather softly over his eyelids. "Looks like snow to me." Luks lika n emptee sheat of PAY/purr! YHu brott Any Zizzerss? Ezra turned his pockets out. See. NO//THING. Robin brushed the feather over his ear. "Like goddamn Dostoevsky, you mean?" Gawwdd!! Listennn. Thar R thingS I still wahnnted to SAYYY ab/t clar/ty n StrukT-chur// abowt how yu cn string the wuhds OWT/ta kEY-uP it from co-HEAR/entzzzz. Robin set his head down gently and turned his pockets out. "See." Yah, I seE.