Wayne F. Burke- Three Poems

Wayne F. Burke has published two volumes of poetry with Bareback Press: WORDS THAT BURN (2013) and DICKHEAD (2015), and has a third volume, KNUCKLE SANDWICHES, forthcoming (5/16).

Vane

Mr. Gootay, from India

owned a funky restaurant

on the backside of Harvard Square

in Cambridge, Mass. where

I worked as fry cook

putting out breakfast

and lunch

and sweating my hangovers

off

over a sizzling grill

that baked my brain

and made me thirsty again

and one night after work

in a bar in Central square,

where Harvard does not live,

I got the shit beat out of me

and the next day

went to work wearing

mirror sunglasses and

band-aids on my face

and Mr. Gootay asked

"what happened, Vane?"

and I said "I walked into a door,"

and Mr. Gootay

standing with hands behind his back

and wearing a white jacket that

made him look like a doctor,

said

"unbeLEAVEable!"

Punk Fight

the screaming starts

and grows in volume

as two punks get ready

to duke it out;

one punk wings

round-house rights

the other dances

with fists upheld

like John L. Sullivan.

The fight goes on and on

like a bad play;

a girl is called "crack whore"

a guy "bitch"

and John L. Sullivan

spits on his opponent.

The cops are eating doughnuts

or else playing cards

in the station;

a crowd grows to two dozen,

all hoping for a better show

or a quicker end

and when a moon-faced cop shows

the punks split

and the cop

sweating through his shirt

asks

what I'd seen

and I say "nothing"

but he gets an earful from

the fat girl

working at the hot dog stand.

spirit

the spirit flew in

through the window

and went down my

gullet:

I love it

it tells me that

there is hope

that there is a future--

but the night, I said to the spirit

it is so dark

and I am all alone;

and the spirit said that

it knew all about

the dark and

the lone,

and did not think much

of either.