De Dutzmen

In the blind poet's closet,
turning "de Bodum"
round in the mouth.

Cafe tables, lightly waxed
pine edges; the upright nipple
of the maiden-mother.

"Many hands buffed the stone"
spoke ivory, the tongue's lustra
(the gold-walled city.)

"Hollandt Mars and its canals":
Loam, asphalt-black, de bodum:
a Dutz cricket-pitz.

On de beetz, an escarpment:
An inch and a half of sand,
wave-curled, polissed

pearl, silver
sweeps
de pidzen-tails on de Kobblstonss.

And Spartan Marinas mused,
restoring, almost,
a sort of

Norsemanly sense of normalcy:
"The first smoke of the day's the toughest—
But you've got to get through it!"


© Dan Goorevitch