Leslie Kleinberg
lkleinberg@hotmail.com

12 AM August 30

Japan Photo Poems

Barren hatch, building's skull,
shattered. Bricks stand testament,
still astray in the rubble.
A frozen scene
In Hiroshima
where the new rises up
in stark normality
behind the old hall's shell.
The streetcars run through a
thriving downtown, all lights
and commerce, following their
prewar tracks.

I saw the pictures
I got off too easy,
No resentment cast toward me.

Bomb out. Holes where
modern windows were.
The archway half gone
and I-beam yanked from a wall.
Words in my head like Dachau.

No one gestured or jeered
at American with camera.
I would understand that.
I feel reverence. Respect. Self conscious solemnity.
But there is no understanding.

[too heavy handed?]

version 2, revised at the time:

A frozen scene in humid June:
Barren hatch, building's skull
shattered. Bricks testify,
still astray in the rubble.

Hiroshima,
where the new rises up,
A stark normality
behind the old hall's shell.
The streetcars run through
A thriving downtown, all lights
and commerce, following their
Pre-war tracks.

I saw the photos.
I got off too easy,
No resentment cast toward me.

Bombed out holes where
modern windows were.
An archway half gone,
an I-beam yanked viciously.
Words in my head say Dachau.

No one gestures or jeers
at an American with camera.
I would understand that.
There's reverence, respect
for the dead and for the living.
Self conscious solemnity.
But understanding, no.
                            [or "none"?]
 

12 PM August 30

Away my maladvisors
You reiterate a
Dullness like a headache
Fiscal point of view

Devil's advocate is what you are?
Seems more like a right hand man
Millions seem not cool but barbed
I don't want relaxation
(I don't think)

Stocks and options
Blast me ineffectually
I don't want a hand

Hot offer suck internet startup
Scurry cherry I should have taken celibacy
I don't believe that crap

Back to delicacy

A life of simple living
I'll have to spin some artistry
I think there were precursors
But I won't be pastoral

There's got to be a melding
Silicon and sense and shine
Or else it's peddle meddle muddle
Sully sweatshop mine.