PhillySound: new poetry

I picked up my Collected Carl Rakosi (National Poetry Foundation, Orono, Maine) this morning and read through about 150 pages or so, which has me thinking of Carl and his great sprit: both ornery and calming -- humorous and precise -- lovely and right -- Carl Rakosi.

Here are three poems by Mr. Rakosi:

A MUSTACHE DRAWN ON CAPTAIN PATTERSON



I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts

the Vincents hit us tonight.

The village chief just took off,

claiming he had business in Danang.



I'd like to take off myself,

all the way to Flint, Michigan.

For openers I'd show up at the airport

with a big sign, GET THE MARINES OUT OF VIETNAM.

Under that in smaller letters:

                              starting with me.






THE COUNTRY SINGER



There ain't nothin special about me.

Everybody knows I'm too fat

and my legs are too short.

I'm just a middle-aged cornball

with a loud voice

and a drinking problem.



It's a funny thing,

when I'm on stage

all I do is act like me.

But I can act me

like a son of a bitch!







TO A COLLIE PUP



Nobody had to show you

where the sun is

or that my back

could serve the same purpose

as a tree.



Why, you are hardly old enough

to know the difference 

between your tail and a shadow,

yet the warm radiator 

and your bowl of water

are already old friends.



The way you look up at me 

with a saint in each eye

one would never suspect

that you chase birds and chickens

and steal stale bread

from the neighbor's trashcan.



Lay off, you beggar

I just fed you

and took you walking.



Go spring 

into the autumn leaves.

Nuzzle and roll 

as if there were nothing 

in the whole wide world

but fun.



How is it that you play 

with my shoelace

and understand so well

how to love me?



For this you shall have 

the key to my bedroom

and the degree 

of master of arts.

--

Tom Devaney