These poems are from the collection, RADIUS, forthcoming from Les Editions du Zaporogue.
LEVITY
It’s happened again
Jim Bailey’s pasture
Assistant Chief Deputy Stewart radios
I’ll be right there
Heifer lying inside
A perfect circle of bare ground
Snow covered field
An eyeball, left ear, tongue
Part of lip
Removed with a surgeon’s precision
No blood, no tracks
No nothing
Nothing to go on
Bailey, 65, tucks
His leathery hands
In to his well worn pockets
Barking her head off, agitated
I set her out
She went running
Full moon, I could see just fine
Running after her
Fur on the back of her neck
Standing straight up
Thought he heard choppers
Cross county –
Two more Herefords
Gomez Ranch
On the way over
My daughter calls
Single parent, sweet nine year old Sam
Denver
Special Events Coordinator, Big Marriott
Daddy, I’ve met a new man
Oh yeah?
Conference at the hotel
Has some business out by you
I’m coming too
Want you to meet him
At the ranch
Under a cedar tree
One had its jaw stripped
Clean removal of teeth
Rectum and vagina cored out
Separate incision
The other’s udder sliced off
Bloodless
Oval circular shaped excisions
Gomez
Family of five
5 am
The mother getting ready for work
Hears a sound
Never heard before
Something like bees buzzing
But with rhythmic oscillation
From the window
Saw a red orange light
The size of a full moon
Pulsing over the pasture
A pathologist – hematologist
I trust – using him for years
Takes tissue samples
Hemoglobin’s been cooked
That means high heat, 300 degrees
Used to cut the flesh
Veterinarian: Heart’s been removed
From its pericardium
But the pericardium sac uncut
How?
I’m racing to another ranch
More carcasses
Same deal
Reports of loud roaring
Sounds of chopper landing
Black, unmarked Chinook
Flying low during daylight
As if searching for something
Unidentified moving lights
A charolais bull and 2 cows
Art Geyer’s ranch
Unlike anything I’ve ever seen
In my 50 plus years in the cattle business
A hole approximately
¼ inch in diameter in bull’s neck
Near the brisket
And get a load of that –
A cow up in the trees
1500 pounds
Hanging off a power line
Strangest thing I’ve ever seen
In my 37 years as a lawman
I’d like to see the coyote that can do that
On my way to a press conference
My daughter calls
Daddy, we’re dropping by tomorrow ok?
That’s fine honey, just call me
You’ll see
Even Sam’s smitten
Jackson County investigator
Mike James
Stories of strange mutilations
Of cattle, last few months
Unfounded
Blown out of proportion
Natural causes
Jagged teeth marks
Dogs, coyotes, other predators
No confirmed case of mutilation
We haven’t
State Cattlemen’s Association haven’t
Dept. of Agriculture haven’t
Just one step away
From people getting hurt
I’ve got people buying high powered guns
They’re gonna shoot helicopters
Out of the air
Nothing more than predators
Arrive at my house
Shiny silver Mercedes
SLR McLaren Roadster
Sam’s with them
Rolls his eyes when he sees me
Then back to his hand held Star Defender
Benjamin is the man’s name
Pressed stripe woven shirt
Cotton trousers
Rolex Stealth watch
Tan
Shakes my hand
Firm grip
Sir, I know
It’s only been a few weeks
But I am crazy about your daughter
Dark jeans
Silk of satin top
Red high heels
Smoking eyeliner
Hair and make up unfussy
Her arm locked in his
As they put out the lunch
They brought
“Low cal” sandwich wraps
Pesto or Asian Turkey
Yogurt parfaits
Honey, I told you not to get
The potato salad
You don’t need that
Daddy, he knows everything about food
And picking out decorations
Right, Sam?
Doesn’t want her to go back to school
He’ll get her a better job
I ask him what he does
Algorithm engineer
Life Technologies
Collecting and analyzing
Large amounts of data
Sequencing, cloning
Expression and purification
Of antibodies
New wave of cancer drugs
It’s exciting
Out in the field a lot
The next morning
Another one
Along with the phantom helicopters
One lying on her side
Hide stripped from her jaw
Four teats removed
Input, output organs
Jaw is important
Produces enzymes
Antibody factory
Just driving away
Spot what I assume
To be the orange red tinged full moon
Rising from behind nearby hill
Then it splits
Two identical round bright objects
One of them races away
High velocity
Parallel to the horizon
The other slowly descends
Behind the hill
I keep driving
When I get home
Voice mail from my daughter
She and Benjamin
3 month anniversary weekend
Chicago
Chartered a helicopter at dusk
Blue expanse of Lake Michigan
Sears Tower, Soldier Field
The famous “bean” in Millennium Park
We were drinking champagne
Laughing
And the cars down below Daddy
Glittery strands of white and red
Pulse in time with the traffic lights
What do you think Daddy?
What do you think?
SPILLS
One February afternoon
Mrs. Hermann frantically dials her husband
Airline executive, New York City
All of the bottles are blowing their tops off
Inside their white trimmed green ranch house
Seaford, Long Island
Noises
Bottles popping their caps
In the master bedroom
Lying on its side
A small bottle of holy water
Cap unscrewed
Contents all spilled
Their eleven year old son Jimmy’s bedroom –
Right next to theirs
A small ceramic doll
Its legs broken
Plastic model ship in pieces
Bathroom cabinet –
Asprin, Kaopectate bottles
Unscrewed, on the floor
Contents spilled
In the kitchen a bottle of starch
Under the sink, cap off,
Spilled
Household belonging
Taking on a life of their own
Papers from Mr. Hermann’s desk
Whirl in the air
Heavy mirror plummets from the bedroom wall
Mrs. Hermann clutches her rosary
James, call the police
Call the police
But Mr. Hermann’s hesitant
Rubs his temples
Could all be young Jimmy
A prank
With help from his sister
Skilled magic
Some sort of device
A good boy
Likes science and sports
But sometimes can’t reach him
In the car, after he met his hero Pee Wee Reese
Just stared out the window
Accuses him
Sobs: Dad, I had nothing to do with it
How could you think that?
Disturbances continue
Strange thumping sounds
A very loud pop
Bottles of nail polish remover,
Shampoo, rubbing alcohol
On the floor of the bathroom
Spilling
Hummel figurines – Virgin Mary
Pastel blue robe
Whips across the living room
Smashes against the wall
Shepherd Boy flies five feet
Crashes on the rug
So quick it looked like a white streak
Or a feather
Nassau County Police
Detective Joseph Tozzi
No ordinary gum shoe
Keen observer, nickname The Hawk
Puffs a Camel
A figurine does not fly off on its own like that
Bottle tops unscrew
Pop and spill
More holy water
Old Spice, a Galaxy Spaceman
Spin down the hallway
Peroxide, Clorox, liquid air freshener
Bookcase with 25 volume encyclopedia
Turns upside down
When Tozzi walks
Down basement stairs with Jimmy
Bronze horse weighing almost 100 pounds
Shoots across the room
Slams the back of his legs
Immediately accuses the boy
You pushed the horse
Says he saw him do it
Even though he didn’t
Grave matter if you’re implicated in any way
Maybe the family’s doing it together
A joint hoax
But the father seems like a straight shooter
She was a registered nurse
Before her marriage
Supervisory position, large hospital
Catholic, particularly active
In the church and school affairs
Peeks in the boy’s room
Ducks from a world globe
Bolted at him from inside
Cracks against a wall
The room is empty
Seems like an intelligent, likable boy
Dodgers pennants
Scrapbooks:
Hodges Pops Two!
Giant/Dodger Move OK’d
Disney’s newly opened Tomorrow Land
The solar system
Crossword puzzle books
Chenille bedspread
Kidney shaped desk top
Red vinyl bar stool
Yo-yos, Rocket Racer
That night
Jimmy lies in bed
Can hear his mother weep
When will this stop
This has to stop
The boy tries to fall asleep
Pictures South Oyster Bay
Just a few miles away
Pouring in to the Atlantic Ocean
Pouring
Unscrew their tops
Fall over
A bottle of mercurochrome
Wings across the living room
Breaks
Newspapermen arrive
A flash bulb rises slowly
From the kitchen table
Bounces against the wall
Father McLead
St. William the Abbot Church
Sprinkles holy water
O heavenly father
Almighty God
We humbly beseech thee
To bless and sanctify this house
A parapsychologist from Duke University:
Incidents only seem to occur
When Jimmy is home
Recurrent Spontaneous Psycho Kinesis
RSPK
Usually attached to one particular individual
Concentrated bursts
Occur only when he’s home
When he’s home
One night
Mrs. Hermann, Jimmy and Lucille
Gather around the solid mahogany
Of their Montgomery Ward
Airline Television
Mr. Hermman’s appearing
On the Jack Paar Show
Nervous, uncomfortable
Please, we’re asking you all for your help
We just want our life back
A woman writes in:
Could be chimney downdrafts
Another: local reservoir
Sending out energy waves
Russian submarine offshore
Causing magnetic field disruptions
Jet airplanes: supersonic impacts,
Satellites
The devil
The chimney is capped
Television antennae dismantled
Detectives, building inspectors,
Electricians, plumbers
A technician with a dowsing rod
Rule out airplane noise, radio waves,
Underground water, house’s foundation,
Electrical system malfunction
Then the last bottle of bleach
Spills in the basement
67 documented disturbances
And that’s it
No more Just ends for no reason
Or so they think
I wake up in the middle of the night
Step around overturned bookcase
Night table, broken plates
Yellowed scrapbooks, the Dodgers
Take a leak
Open the window
Breathe
Light up a smoke
The ocean outside
Pounding the shore
Rushing in
Spilling spilling
THE NAME
I.
26 year old Giselle’s
Irregular breathing
She lies on a gray blanket
Over a bare mattress
Blonde hair
Faded jeans
Yellow shirt with rips
Pallor of her cheeks
Windows closed
Blinds drawn
Except for her lips
Twisted like a corkscrew
Her face has no expression
Stale stench of Giselle’s presence
Worse than garbage or rotting flesh
Father Peter
Tousled gray hair
Hollow cheeked
Black cassock, white surplice
His third exorcism
His last
The voice must be silenced
Recites quietly from a prayer book
On a night table
Two candles flicker
A crucifix rests between them
In one corner of the room
A chest of drawers
Should have been removed before we started
To Father Peter’s left
Backs to the door
Two bulky men
One a close acquaintance of the girl’s father
Children called Uncle
A bank manager
In a blue suit
Eyes fixed on Giselle
His face an expression of helpless fear
Shivering
Though it’s August
Below freezing in the room
The other’s an ex-policeman
Friend of the family
36 years on the force
Sixties, bald
Puzzled look on his face
Thinks he’s seen everything
About to find out
He hasn’t
Not even close
Presence
Not a he
Not a she or an it
Sometimes it is singular
Sometime plural
Refer to itself as I or we
Giselle, creature of God
In the Name of God
Who created you and Jesus who saves you
I command you to hear my voice
Giselle’s mouth twists
In to an S shape
Neck taut
Showing every vein and artery
Ex-policeman and her uncle
Move to hold her
Any sin will be used as weapon
Any sin
Jerks free
Sits bolt upright on the bed
Smiles, slowly
Opens mouth
In a narrow slit
Emits long wailing howl
For one minute
Her own father sniffling
Whimpers in the corner
Force it to give its name
To give its name
Hold her down
Four pairs of hands
Jesus have mercy on my baby
YOU!
She screams
Lies pinned flat on the bed
Eyes wide open
PETER THE EATER
EAT MY FLESH
SHE SHE SUCK MY BLOOD
SAID SHE AND YOU DID
PETERRRR THE EATERRRR
Her voice sinks in rrrr’s
Animal gurgle
Wide smile
YOU’LL COME WITH US
YOU FREAK
YOU’LL LICK MY ARSE
AND LIKE IT
PETERRRRRRRR
II.
Summers at the cottage
Beale Strand, Ballybunnion seaside
Solid timber floor, slate roof
Cliff and shoreline walks
Peter 16 years old
First and last time he makes love
A girl from Listowel
Known her for three summers
That day their families went to the Listowel races
Go on a cliff walk
Hill road down to the Seaweed Baths
Along the top of the cliffs
Virgin Rock
Big arch’d island in the sea
Just near the Nun Strand
Tide out, steep and wet slope
He cannot remember the girl’s name
Innocent flirtation, giggles
Gleaming white skin, long blonde hair
Her all-knowing smile
Hold hands
Dusk in the dunes
Long narrow inlet
Bogland filled with heathers, grasses, mosses
Golden sand
Mountains and headlands
Claw the sea
Waves and spume
Windy
Passionate exchange of kisses
Simple love play, caresses
Lie naked beneath the stars
Huddle close together
The girl playfully nicknames him
Peter the Eater
Don’t worry
No one will ever know
How you made love to me
Only me
For about a year after
Interested in girls
But begins to think of the priesthood
If you ever leave the seminary
And don’t marry me
I will tell everyone your nickname
She dies a few years later
Ruptured appendix
Tell everyone, tell everyone
He can still hear the wind
But cannot remember her name
III.
Bryant Park
Behind the New York Public Library
People begin to notice
A skinny young woman
Medium height, blonde hair
Wears jeans, black sandals
Always a gray rain coat
Over her shoulders
Visits irregular
Stays for unpredictable periods of time
Sometimes for hours
Or ten minutes
The weather not a factor
How long she sits on the bench
Sunshine, a rainy day, snow
Doesn’t matter
She looks clean
But passers by notice a rancid odor
Does this woman bathe?
Never speaks to anyone
Fixed expression
Eyes are blue but blank
Cheeks taut
A frozen smile
Teeth never visible
Plays with wooden sticks on her lap
Tape and scraps of paper
Like little crosses upside down
One day someone passes her
With a radio
Blaring music
Suddenly hands to her ears
Paces and screams
Falls hard on her face
People run over to help
A policeman appears
Turn that thing off pal
Half conscious
Still smiling
Recalls being a girl at the playground
Thrown from a swing
Kids standing over her
Giggling
Her big brother George
She thinks he is too
A tall, fit man stands behind the policeman
As he crouches besides the woman
The cool snap of the air
Blue of sky
Shining faces of the skyscrapers
Children laughing
Workmen telling a joke
Cars honking
And then grunts, snarls, hisses
Helpless bleating
The tall man:
She’s Giselle
I will take care of her
Voice very clear
With authority
Dark hair, flecks of gray
Lightweight brown leisure suit
Are you a relative?
I’m the only one she has in the world
He bends over
Touches Giselle on the left wrist
Speaks quietly in her ear
In a few moments
She gets up
Unsteady
She is still smiling
She and the tall man
Walk slowly towards Fifth Avenue
You needn’t report this
The policeman assumes
That the man is her father
They smile the same way
But he still files a report
And mentions the tall man
It’s in the record
In the record
IV.
Giselle is plump
Grave faced
Rarely laughs
Never smiles
Speaks in a low voice
Few friends
Feels close to her big brother George
But he’s an oceanographer, California
Hardly talk or write
Drops out of Hunter College
Chemistry major
Hates the lab, professors, authority
Sales clerk, clothing store
Union Square
Lunch hour, park bench
Reading William James
Varieties of Religious Experience
Feels suddenly
But without any sense of fear
Someone leaning over her shoulder
Glaring at the pages
She looks around
He’s tall, handsome, older
Left hand rests back of bench
Brown tweed blazer
The one thing she notices
His mouth
Perfect white teeth
Glimpses behind his lips
He reads out loud
Repeatedly
Open page of book
When you find a man living on the ragged end of consciousness
Runs the words
Over and over
Without stop
Softly
Slowly, whirling carousel in her ears
Over and over
The sky and buildings
Turning too
She bursts in to tears
They are still pushing you against the ragged edge
She can’t remember him
He’s not real
Though she sees him many more times
Seek thee of the Kingdom
They will know you
You will know them
V.
Speaks despairingly
Rudely
Curses
Parents worry
Rationalize:
It’s just a bad phase
She’s rebelling
Shrinks to 95 pounds
Her mother leaves food packages
Door, East Village apartment
Afraid to knock
Giselle returns one
Smelling and dripping
Excrement and urine
On the fruit and sandwiches
One day
Giselle walks by
Illuminated cross
General Building
Park Avenue and 56th Street
Hears the Tall Man
Seems one sided
Shouldn’t they turn it upside down?
Balance the odds
He smiles
All people have powerful force in them
In the apartment
Scribbles inverted crosses
Side by side with upright ones
Tears paper
Marriage with nothingness
Old and new corruptions
No longer sees any sensation
Of sunlight and wind
Fired from her job
Wanders out the shop
You didn’t come back
Why didn’t you come back?
Parents only speak to her
Through locked door
Of her apartment
Why doesn’t Daddy rape me
Or break my nose with his fist?
Then I would see my beauty
Fuck away
Dull thuds
Loud crashes in the apartment
Sometimes for hours
The police –
Door has to be forced
Putrid odor
Freezing temperature
We’re in a heat wave for God’s sake
Giselle’s brother George
Home for extended visit
Married, two children
Hard to believe the stories
About his little Giselle
Mother sits him down
The living room
His poor mother’s shrunk, more wrinkles
Cream polyester short sleeve blouse
Lilac floral skirt
She’s going away with Evil
That’s it Evil
George laughs it off
He’s a scientist
His beloved mother superstitious
Worries too much
Giselle’s a little weird, that’s all
Gets a call from his wife back home
Their Anna, youngest
Scary fall
Pushed off the monkey bar
Hit her head
Who did it? Who did it?
Has a big bump but she’s ok
George’s mother
Hands him a crucifix
Hide it in her room
You’ll see Son
She won’t stand for it
Giselle lets George in
Visibly excited to see him
Sits and listens to her
Talks slowly
In soft, staccato voice
Something is wrong
Very wrong
Senses a deep change
Mannerisms still there
But as if she’s repeating a script
Many of her
Not just her
Or something
She frightens him
He does not frighten easily
Tells him she knows
Anna fell
That’s awful, just awful
Only a bump
It could’ve been worse you know
These things can get bad
Clenches his fist
Pulls a strand of hair
When Giselle goes to the bathroom
Places crucifix under mattress
She returns
Turns white
Falls rigidly to the floor
Shakes
Jerking her pelvis back and forth
Foams at the mouth
Stomps on the wooden floor
And stomps
Bares teeth
VI.
Father Peter’s palms are dry
And his mouth
Glances at the girl
Her eyes closed
But eyeballs pulsing beneath lids
As if caught in heated conversation
Wide smile
Across her lips
Head turned to one side
As if listening
Giselle!
Half whisper
Can’t find his voice
Feels weak
Why fuck your gentle heart
I am now of the Kingdom you know
So hump off
Betcha he doesn’t know how to hump
The voice must be silenced
Edge of her teeth
White glow
A light behind the lips
Crows feet thin away
Le cha Venichretha
Hebrew words from her
Let’s make a deal Peter
Just you and me
Peter the Eater
Don’t worry
No one will ever know
Only me
Father Peter dizzy
Can’t breathe
Almost loses balance
Telleveryonetelleveryonetelleveryone
The waves, distant summer so dear
She can’t have it
Feeling the waves with the girl
Holding hands
Playfully tosses sand
Droplets of water on her skin
Giggles
She can’t have it
A deal Peter
Aleh Beth Gimel
Forget your Hebrew
In all that hair and skin?
Get it to reveal its name
Its name
GISELLE!
Tschah Peter
What’s a little Hebrew
Between you and me?
IN THE NAME OF JESUS
I COMMAND YOU TO ANSWER!
If you’re thinking of that
Little pimply fat girl with no tits
Forget it
The girl’s father
The ex cop, the banker
Looking at the chest of drawers
Rocking back and forth
Brass handles rattle
Going to explode
GISELLE!
No, Peter…
IN THE NAME OF
All that is Unholy a cockinacunt
Will somebody fuck me
I COMMAND YOU!
High pitched scream
No!
Shoulders, hips, thighs, feet
TELL ME YOUR NAME!
VII.
Now Giselle’s a dental assistant
Sterilize and disinfect
Instruments and equipment
Prepares and lays out
Instruments and materials
Required to treat each patient
Provides comfort to patients in the chair
Prepare them for treatment
They’re children
Now a red headed boy, freckles
Two cavities
Moans during the drilling
It hurts
Hurts so much
After
Hands him stick of sugarless gum
Tousles his hair
Come on, show me that smile
****
Father Peter
Back in his beloved Kerry
Cottage overlooking the sea at Reen
Wheelchair
Full time nurse with him
Last one
Took it all out of him
Never the same
Broken
Surrounded by the sea
Mountain views
Sandy and rocky coves
Wind
Watches waves crash
On the boulders
Retreat
And again
The wind on their faces
He smiles
Her name was June
Matt Bialer has had poetry published by or forthcoming from H_NG_M_N, Forklift Ohio, Green Mountains Review, Blip and a few others. He has a collection coming out some time next year from a small publisher in the UK called Stanza Press (PS Publishing). By day, he is a literary agent at Sanford J. Greenburger Associates (www.greenburger.com). He also does black and white street photography and has work in the permanent collections of The Brooklyn Museum, The Museum of the City of New York and the New York Public Library. You can see his photographs here: www.mattbialer.com He also has them collected in a book entitled MORE THAN YOU KNOW (Les Editions du Zaporogue, www.lulu.com). And – last – I have watercolor landscapes in the following books BEST OF AMERICA WATERMEDIA II and BEST OF WORLDWIDE LANDSCAPE (Kennedy Publishing).
Great stuff.