Chinaski (Poetry)

Old man
I’d like to join you on
that old back porch
and talk about
old times.

You are the
father/brother/uncle/friend
I’ve never met
except
on some flat page

And you’re the
one voice I can bear
to touch me —
stroke the vein
of truth —
the pulse that rattles
stones inside my
head.

You are obscene
you are obscure
infectious
dangerous
tender — mean
but you’ve seen all
and nailed love
to a tree.

I’ll call you Hank
and you can name
me
what you will
I’ll listen
while you
reminisce
drink death’s fine wine
and smoke the night
away.

I need to hear
from your
wide mouth
chill drops of rain
more tales of earth —
passion
disappointment
lust
and comfort —
all that
shrugging-off
acceptance and
endurance —
life’s long awful
grind.

I’d like to
hear it all
old man —
the secret —
wrinkled lips to ear
and no holds barred
if you could
spare a crazy chick
some time.