History Loves a Story

It's okay to be Vesuvius—what does friendship matter to you?
I was always better, and the pile of correspondence proves it.
Flirt at parties and keep track of the bad luck, the way men are.

The translation desk was open way past midnight for the gala,
with suspenders. Not a trace of comfort anywhere, not even
when the attractive guests got down to their skivvies.

Each time he picks up the cellular phone another crack addict
slams through the nearly deserted subway car, leaving a caption
of fear, disgust, shit, poverty, plus iambic American tunes.

I want to help you spread luxury like peanut butter on saltines.
I want to send you the chance on a prize fighter or marketable gadget.
I want to laud failure, fanfare defeat, launch one thousand more ships.

The memory a single drop of water a memory—

James Brook | Mudlark No. 18
Invisible One | Chinese Classics