Eichelberger - Three poems

 
 

Miguel Eichelberger  

CONCRETE  

she is swingin’ with the concrete

and gathering her moves

the melody is brick and glass

the fever is the blues

she puffs weed on the corner

where the colours all confuse

and the smoke adorns the concrete

like a man who likes to lose

her mood sticks to the pavement

like the gum and stench of rot

and her soreness says it’s over

but her heartbeat knows it’s not

she never was a dancer

not before she found this spot

they might say the concrete’s broken

but her heartbeat says it’s not

on the right street to salvation

she could never keep her feet

that path is slick with hesitations

but the corner is concrete.

WHAT’S A HUMAN TO DO

they don’t let you sleep in temples

beds aren’t kept for the foregone

and though the dead should be examples

they still tell you to move on

rescind for me my trespass

and I’ll sing for you a song

this stone’s as good as any I’ve slept on

     the preacher-man—he takes you for a beggar

     his little holy book can’t fill this cup

     his cursing—you won’t find between its covers

     not even if you clean his judgements up

they don’t let you sleep in temples

and you can’t die on the step

so what comes to you in trembles

cannot be forgiven yet

point me to the shelter

and I’ll promise to forget

I still prefer the gods I haven’t met

SHALL WE SPEND TODAY IN HIDING

While I go on thinking the grave-

digging covers my whistle

While I sing for my supper and tap

dance around sinkholes

at my feet

While I wear a tailored suit

for some occasion

and I rehearse lines

for those I conflate

I know I tidied

up the kitchen

I know the roof

is burning by the heat

I know the leaves

are clinging by the smell

I know the ice

was never thick

While I go on quoing

my great big status

While I eat mud

and crows

While I bottle what

I wrung out

the snake

While I while

I know the clocks

are set by the mail

I know the lawns get mowed

and the grass cries out

I know the city starts

moving when I say it does

I know I know

what needs worrying

I know the birds

come to the feeder


Miguel Eichelberger’s work has appeared in literary magazines around the world including Acta Victoriana, Harpur Palate, The Literary Review of Canada, Plainsongs Magazine, Poetry Salzburg, and Existere. His first short story was published in the Rappahannock Review in 2021, and his first screenplay is under option in Ireland.

"Concrete" was origninally published by the Literary Review of Canada

www.migueleichelberger.com                                          

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