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Underground eXperts United
Presents...
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[ Stashu Kapinski In A Family Way ] [ By Joseph Lisowski ]
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Poetry
Joseph Lisowski
BETWEEN THE SEXES
There's this little kid down the stree,
cute, maybe two, her mother always
dressin' her like a doll. Older kids
come 'round all the time an' play too.
Always some big scene ona porch.
One day this boy, maybe three or four,
stops by with his dad. The kids play.
I ain't got nothin' better to do so I watch.
About ten minutes later, outa the blue,
I mean there ain't no way to see it comin',
the little girl whacks the boy ona head
with a toy telephone, then she pinches
his cheek an' tries to bite. Jeez.
I'm waitin' for the kid to lay her out,
but he's a gentle soul an' just stands there
like his feelin's hurt an' nothin' else.
His ole man finally picks him up,
takes him home. I only hope
he tells that kid to watch out, stay away,
once them women get an early start,
you ain't got no chance at all.
WHAT AM I, A WEATHERMAN?
It got so cold last night
I thought I saw snow on the trees.
It's the end of May fahcrissake!
Ina morning I take a closer look,
see it ain't nothin' but flowers
dyin' on the dogwood tree.
Just goes to show you
what you see is what you feel
an' it ain't necessarily real.
Believe me, I could tell you stories 'bout that
but you heard enough of them already.
SO LONG
There ain't no givin' up in me.
No matter how I wanna lay down, let go
I keep poppin' up, strokin' for shore.
Talk about shipwreck, jeez,
whales ain't seen so many.
But today ain't a day to think about the dead.
The sun's sharp, cuttin' clean shadows
against the concrete stoops, telly poles, an' fences.
The ole guy down the block is pumpin' Italian music
out to the street where folks is strollin, smilin',
some even wavin' to kids across the way.
I give you there's a cold wind but winter
she's gone to some other country.
MY CAT FREDDIE KAT
There's this gray tiger-stripe,
left ona street, just a kitten.
So I pick her up an' she squeaks
real pitiful like an' I take her home.
Make a space, buy food, litter, all that.
She's not much on gratitude,
but she's a good cat an' gives me space too.
We go our own way much of the time.
But in the evenin' when I'm feelin' easy
an' in that rockin' chair, she hops on my lap,
paws an' curls, then hums that sweet lullabye
we both end up dozin' to.
That's what I call good pussy.
DREAMS YOU CAN LIVE WITHOUT
Damn night visitors struck again.
This time my ex-wife was raped.
Twice. She tells me about it
after we make love. Jeez,
I say, didn't you go to the hospital
or nothin', maybe call the police?
No, she says, I just came home to you.
But, I says, why are you so calm
an' only tellin' me after we do it?
She shrugs. I can't figure it out.
I mean, I start to say somethin' but give up
not knowin' what to think.
She sighs. I fumble in the dark for a cigarette
knowin' there ain't been any ina house for 20 years.
Maybe, she says, I want you to have what I caught
so we could always be together.
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