Two Poems: For All B and C Men

All B Men

1 apple + all apples = unnumbered^ inner reckless/outer ruby lips,

there B sends for ½ apple in the morning,

and the other ½ in the evening

at last 0^0 apples remain to eat—

rushing the road of the apple market anxiously.

*

Their wisdom*0 (up) ample to -24.

All B men are meek^ artless whims.

First B pretends anonymity.

Second B presents accommodation-al alliances

The final B struggles to collect his stuff—

*

even those dropped next to the exit door.

B eats mutton. B eats bacon.

B eats (vegetables)*fish+ beef.

B eats his laughter at the end.

B drinks Diet Pepsi.

*

B drinks milk and secretly (whisky)> to his belief.

B comes. B goes. B smiles. B avenges.

B starts the war for peace.

B finally dies.

B’s bodies freeze under the ground^88 -24.

*

All B will be forgotten forever.

Then B is born out of the B’s. All B like the air accumulates…

B numerous Men. Be notorious Men. Be factious Men.

*

Be symbolic Men. Be real Men, Be unreal Men,

B remain,

B men

till the end.

***

All C Men

The clean air and the sunshine of

California smells fresh Clementine.

She gets it

But he does not get it at all.

*

It must be blood

all C men presume.

Even the street-lights

Look up but C Men look down.

*

They pass each other.

They walk through one another,

C after C.

Gaze after gaze.

*

And their last desire

To reappear uninvited…

Carving pumpkins to carve,

And climbing mountains without ropes,

And sharpening pencils to draw in the air.

*

They start with breathing heavy,

as everyone’s hand is on his chores.

And all eyes must be following their eyes.

All C Men.

Weak.

Mean and Rootless.

Cool pretentious fighters.

And cold heart-lifters.

*

She thinks of C-Men,

They remain inside her.

She looks for them outside.

C-Men rise up with their titles.

*

They become presidents.

Businessmen.

Dramatists.

Fashion designers.

Entertainers.

And worst Professors,

or naked Models.

*

All C Men do nothing.

For sure,

still, she sees a C-Man does it all.

A Perfection.

*

Like the number 8,

With wider shoulders, bowed arms

And a thin curved waist.

Empty curves

Barren shoulders

*

I say silently,

Your time—

C has wasted over that one night.

Liberation must come after C Men