Excerpt for Light Street by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

Light Street

Nick Piombino


Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 Nick Piombino

All rights reserved


A Strawberry Book

www.strawberrybooks.com


The print edition of Light Street first appeared in 1996 from Zasterle Press.

These poems were previously published in Abacus, Aerial, Avec, Central Park, Gallery Works, Hot Bird Mfg, TXT. Thanks to their editors and publishers.

Illustrations for The Gentle Instructor by Toni Simon © 1994. They first appeared in Central Park #4.

Table of Contents

Light Street: Poems

The Frozen Witness

The Broken Angel

Imbroglio

Whoever Listens Lovingly

Interior Demolition

The Book

Seven Plus Four

An Odd Reprisal

The Gentle Instructor

Fantasy

Light Street

Perhaps The Dream of Writing

Hegelian Honeymoon: Haikus

Unearth

Miles of Sky

Sinema

Hegelian Honeymoon

Found Haiku

The Thief of Time

Writer’s Block

The Three Tenors

Youlipo

Night in Shining Armor

Gas Surplus

The Thesis

George W. Bush (Little Haiku Against A Big War)

Final Soliloquy of the Obsolete Robot

Weapons of Mass Affection

MacBoth

Double or Nothing

Afternoon of a Frown

About the Author





Light Street: Poems

The Frozen Witness


Some moments stolen by a slave
A way of sifting, a kind of secret stuffing

Comes to reunite the lost and found.

What is invisible is most conceivable,
A missing object unconsciously engulfed,
An inanimate combining that measures emptiness.

And out of nothing, something comes,
A clanging memory, a wrenching glance,

Illicit and unfounded gasps,

Gaps of silence widened to a world.

Such probabilities attend to sense

The way the eye invades a room,

The way the slightest attention to a doubt

Will fix forever a foggy afternoon
On a quiet street in a nameless part of town,

The way the unknown finally begets the known.

And, if so, what’s worth retaining
Of what remains, in spite of constant turning.




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The Broken Angel


Something which is absent flows nonetheless.

The words contain the table they are written on.

You can rest your arm on them.
Simplicity belies itself, occasion

Does more than reach out, it annexes

Moments by subtracting them.

Occasion Leaks through time, catching its hold on

The rough textured edge of conviction.

The “I” aspires to stretch its arms,

Move about comfortably, settle in.
But the invisibility of response, the familiarity
Of a certain dance which takes its same turns
While everyone is watching, emotions, thoughts,

Predictions, choices shift into a perfectly orchestrated

Ensemble:—this would not necessarily have to be

Recorded in notes, you could relive it day after day,

Century after century in a series of affective rituals.

Although it is self-evident you observe that
«Things live or die» you do admit
That birth is far from painless, you
Acknowledge human helplessness before diseases

Like A.I.D.S.—the multiplicity of forms of physical

And psychological cruelty that existence confers.

Should you deny this you'll never see the space

Between the glass and the landscape outside


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