Poem To Tamara #3

Poem To Tamara, #3

Poem to Tamara #3

Well, now, girl

ole friend

betchew didn’ know

atchew look jis lahk

Horatio Alger^[1]

or is it Alger Hiss

no matter

realtruthis

yew

like ev’buddy else’

s a kaleidoscope

which constantly shifts

from one display of yourself to another

evolving

and revolving

simultaneously

making a human being

like a patchwork quilt

all kindsa designs

and don’t forget that

halfway through a patchwork quilt

looks quite different from when it’s finished.

An has more designs “ “ “

but, uh course

all smile

all freckle

all black hair

makes for no frown

no pimples

no “golden hair shining in the sun”

but it’s cool

black hair I mean

cause

it’s easily spottable

inna crown

and anyway

if you diet

(your hair)

and it gets blonde

or red or something

I’ll hatechew

and get so furious

I’ll punish you

with a year’s subscription to “the watch tower”^[2]

an[d] furthermore

            (I never get through talking. Wind me up and

several hours later I run down

whereupon I become

(1)  silent

(2)  hoarse

(3)  gloomy

(4)  on with the poem).

I like black hair

speshly yers

as none

and all of these

((((excepting purenicesweetmusiclovinginnocuousvirginidiot))))

& that you are only a true

happy

delightful

understanding

((((goodfriend))))

((((whomistillove))))

hypocrite

!

But

                        that’s all right, mama

                        that’s all right by you,

                        that’s all right, mama

                        just any way you do

cause

y’see

as long as I can see you Saturdays in Aaron’s^[3]

weekdays at school

& talk to you on the phone

an[d] see your smiling face.

((((delightful face, that))))

and be inspired by you

((((as I am))))

to write such as this,

I don’t givadamn

what you

tellyour

dumb

idiot

teenage friends

orifyou

go | out

nights

with dumb teenage bastards

who yak on about cars

and sports and all the resta

that crap

ani dontcareif you be

a complete b*tch

and hypocrite

or even do

anything at all

justaslongas

you’re like you have been

around me

andbehonest to me

((((I mean HONEST))))

and don’t feed me any more hypocrisy

cause I’ll know if you do

an also

((((wait a minute. Le me dispose of all these

parentheses)))))))))).

            whythehell

donchew

            ever(godamit)

answer my long

    letters

or show me your poems (they can’t be that bad)

or

            stoplettingmetalk

    alla time

an say something yourself

                        all that I mean

            PLEASE, dear.

An hohoho

                        Now I close this poem

                                    asif it were a letter

which I guess it is

            because one human communication is the same

                        asanother

                                                analso

wordsarewords

poetryisprose

poem, letter, allasame

            as Dizzy Gillespie^[4] says, “It all

comes out

            in the wash—baby.”

ani

agree

also

            and furthermore

            and ontopathat

Labels

(like JAZZ

CLASSICAL MUSIC

POEMS

PROSE

REALIY [sic]

UNREALITY

and names

ofall

HUMAN BEINGS)

isalotta

            sh*t

imeanmanure

            turds)

true

            iknow

itsmorefunto

just be.

As the Chang Tzu^[5] says:

“Words are for holding ideas; but when on has got the idea one need think no more about the words.”

            I think that’s true.

For aforementioned reasons

an ontoppa that—

um

(let me think.)

(oh yes)

lifis justa bowla cherries

but don’t forget

the pits

            (right gang? right).

and also

your penchant for

themkindacoats

you wear

is alright

            (don’t mistake my praise

it’s not unqualified

            or unlimited

for instance

I hate summa yore friends

anlove others

butchew know)

that (

) living is all fun

an people are

to be appreciated

ani dont care

bout if you got

dumbstupid

conformist

predictable

borning

phony

(& numerous other derogatory adjective

            ((including “teenage”))

) friends

            (with whom you spend muchtime

                        butnever told me

                                    ((wasn’t I right when I said

                        that we carefully

                                    but unconsciously (((sometimes conciously [sic])))

                        build up false images of ourselves

for others (((firstithought you were nicesweetmusicloving

innocuous

            pure

     virginal

idiot

     & then

            that you were

intellectualartistthinkernonconformistveryfineperson

                        & adored you.

But—alla time little suspicious that you were

            phonydumbteenagerboycrazyconformistnonthinker

till finally now

I see you truly

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