1. before the surge – cut up from newscasts
it's brutal out here
i feel like thousands of small knives
are cutting through me
nothing but white sea foam flying
all over
as far as my eyes
can see
the main road has been abandoned
everything is eerie, ghostly
spooky
curiosity seekers
everywhere
what kind of mentality is this
it's not good
bringing out cameras kids
& dogs
taking photos with wide angle lenses
cameras clicking away
they think this is art
i know we are safe
what makes you so sure
living in n.y. makes me think we are
safe
if you can take photos safely
we'd like you to send them to
us
heed the warnings stay out of danger
if we are wrong you can come right back
if you are in a safe place stay there
& stay indoors
if you are in zone A or zone B
evacuate as soon as you can
this afternoon a jogger was struck by a twig
& got injured
if the crane collapses
it will be like a knife cutting through butter
penetrating the ground
we will have incredible explosions
of gas pipes
it's hard to believe
never seen anything like this before
our transit system & salt water do not get along
it's a scary scene out there
this is nothing to be trifled with
no one WE repeat NO ONE
should remain OUTDOORS
the time for re-location is over
there is nothing here
except a disturbed & wavy jet stream
so we have to stay
2. the surge begins – (cutup from newscasts)
it was getting bad
now it's getting real bad
look @ times square it's a ghost
town
the brutal power of mother nature
is proof enough for our eyes
it's like a time-lapse camera
getting worse everywhere before our eyes
smashing all n.y. records
it's a storm about a surge
somewhere as the surge mounts
a clock is ticking
we have never seen waves
like this EVER we are scared
it's hard to digest all that's happening
as all these elements converge
we are right in the BELLY of the STORM
HAMMERED DOWN
the SUN has SET
the WATER has RISEN.
3. within the surge
a.
the ocean devours its spawn
the rivers overflow
what kind of reality is this
red hook is sinking
cameras hipsters dogs
manuscripts
lives
homes / possessions
breezy point sinking
broad channel
coney island
the rock-aways
spring street
ave c
all sinking
in chelsea archives & art being
ruined
storage gone
art galleries flooded
ice cream melting
i walk outside my apartment every 15 minutes
though we are cold &
in the dark from where i stand one would never know
that so many lives so many possessions
are being lost so many hopes sinking at this very
MOMENT.
b.
water gurgle a bass moan
chihihihihihihihihi
of tree (bird)
where did she go - bird
rhythm asymmetric
baby/cry mimicry / trommmpeta
proses' lean smell
wolf hound kitten soft omitting useless
tirelessness
a swelling of the shoreline
(g)rains
working all day support systems
comprehensive instruction/regions
careful miscellany
banquo's drunken dunked-in jones
water-burgled footholes
helped the organ diver landlocked excellorator
ouched with impressive amount of harmonious
lack in the zone where Smitty battles his privacy
truth both body & mind
where the correct amount of space
has been provided incorrectly
& where you i they exhibit a lack of interest
in our professions
4.after the surge –
a. back to life
for an hour his saxophone saves
us & 2 good steaks
phone works / gas works
battery operated radio & cd player
music always works
no longer a desert
times square becomes our temporary
salavation
returning home
the bus leaves us at the edge of darkness.
b. the river
a flock of birds swoop low across the
hudson
there is a strange prolonged near-frozen
sunset
amongst a deep grey clump of clouds
moving from west to east
skyscrapers on the jersey side
have a white bright sheen where the invisible sun
hits them
the tide is much lower than usual
the area nearly deserted
almost icy cold
my nose drips
gulls & debris
drift on the water's
surface
a barge & cruise ship pass
each other in the oncoming night
the freedom tower seems as always
shackled by its own materiality & lack of
majesty
a lone sparrow swoops up from the nowhere
of the waters & almost smashes into my
face
i leave as the frieze itself leaves.
c. a quick synopsis
power back after 5 ½ days
disabled seating for priorities only
430 a.m.
the radio goes on
tv on
lights on
try to kiss wife get rejected
(my) power diminishes after 5 minutes
priority disabled hum veeeees
missed all
made 3 collages by candle/flash light
eating steak by candle light in a tenement apt
first thing discovered after power is back
one quietly struggling little mouse
caught in a glue trap
beneath the fridge
hot water back
but no heat
marathon no marathon
shower
shave
bagel
hug
radio (Fidelio)
tragicomedy.
Steve Dalachinsky was born in 1946, Brooklyn, New York. His work has appeared extensively in anthologies and journals including The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry, Big Bridge, Milk, Xpressed, Evergreen Review, Long Shot, Beat Indeed and The Haiku Moment. His books include A Superintendent's Eyes (Hozomeen Press 2000), PEN Oakland National Book Award winning book The Final Nite (Ugly Duckling Presse 2006) and Reaching into the Unknown, The Mantis (Iniquity Press 2011) and Long Play E.P. (Corrupt Press 2011). His latest book is Trust Fund Babies / Phenomena of Interference from Unlikely Books. Photo by Bonny Finberg.
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