Empedocles and Exaenetus (Wikipoem for My Father)

Wikipedia Poem, No. 824

PROVE2D

yr head if  only he cared     
down their hooves spectacular  
the riders' blood spilled    as much for me  
but i   was a  wrestler  and  was a   wrestler 
and was  a farce another   wrapped around  their hooves 
spectacular the riderstand was a   wrestler 
and  was a farce vested spectacular  
the great heft  of   the   riderstand 
was a    wrestler  and  a farce      
as much for me as for

touching their hooves   spectacular 
their thighs before  touching their  
spectacular root of    riderstand 
was a   wrestler and     each other    a   wrestler 
and given  no horse i was a  wrestler and    
each other  wrapped  around     each other  
given no horse  
the root of   their hooves   spectacular  
their hooves spectacular  the   great heft of  their hooves 
spectacular their   hooves   spectacular 
the riders'   blood  spilled     as   much for me 
but i  was a   wrestler

Kneel 1

Wikipedia Poem, No. 770

w770

“Amongst a-many terrible bright scenes, / in the submarine’s sick-bay a fire began / which we all fought in the aisle, / pillowcases exploded into flame, & fiends / swept the length of the great ship of man / cleaning out the good & the vile.” John Berryman (DS, 317)

no shy realization 
through the night being abandoned 
my father precious dark expanses i had not 
before actually it was guilty answers 
i was the guilty answer i was guilty at being away for  
confident hours every precious day  
turning away 
it was guilt before 
actually it was guilty answers 
i wasn't anger i was away from 
i was guilty for the night 
guilt at distant bedlam actually 
i felt like 
i had gone 
to stay

it was guilt at being away
it wasn't anger at not being
it wasn't anger at being son set
     not being away from a father
it was guile sprung the net

Strange Candy

Wikipedia Poem, No. 613

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“Crack, crack, old ship! so long as thou crackest, thou holdest!” Melville

xerxes burrows into his thing-pink shirt for safety     i never said 
he plays with geometry    not consciously however    i 
pity him    welcome him to his soul    where 
hallucinations manifest themselves     into the guy or gal
the bloodpool    dreams of the battle of thermopylae     sit down 
hero     he wants a backyard with high fences     he wants 
to be the president 
very badly      darius sends emissaries to each greek city-state
information passes through still photographs until xerxes' body
emerges

 

Wikipedia Poem, No. 183

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That book “marks the beginning of a new dedication. I needed the invigoration of unfamiliar languages and new landscapes, and I worked to find a clarity of prose that might serve as an equivalent to the clear light of those Aegean islands. The Greeks made an art of the alphabet, a visual art, and I studied the shapes of letters carved on stones all over Athens. This gave me fresh energy and forced me to think more deeply about what I was putting on the page.” Don DeLillo

 

forward folly is in vogue my son
early with many careening gifts 
turning to be something routine
     he is 14 
     he is signal bias 

some number in space
the author confronts himself the father
what rightside will devour a detour
     then into a huge reserved juggernaut 
     then a flashback into thermal routine 
         
stratum and orang mohole
nature over the child provoked 
twistem seems to get blinded 
     by a greek cynic 
     by a philosopher with no lap

in america now father and son pursue space
the number therein grows into subject matter 
effects a typo of origin substratum 
	in god's place a sentence
	in moby dick's a little dancing mook

americana finds evidence of space
menippean satire remains conspicuous 
the venerable two-timer arrives and is turned out
     into a continuous flash key 
     into vietnam's exulted dispenser

Wikipedia Poem, No. 166

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“All I did was let the kettle boil.” John Ashbery

 

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