A LONG LOST LIFE AS LONG AS IT TAKES TO GET LOST
BY
CLIFFORD HAUSMAN
1.
The crawlspace wasn’t built large enough for me.
I needed a ladder or
good amount of coaxing.
It wasn’t too high or too small, it was me.
Crying and shitting willy nilly
just beneath the unreachable crawlspace.
Bawl
enough and inevitably the rescuer
emerges hands out and giving so I take.
What at first was lunch at the kitchen table
the cool breath of cold fridge
freshness
breezing the air and fried or nuked or left
between bread food soon
to be found
in the tender new squish of teeth there.
Became an amount of money coaxed
from the ‘rents and gone wandering
to
fix my own self up at the pleasure
center tongue or nose or touch or breast
or more often than not penis playing
in
the ghastly thrilling pen the contained
stage of exhibitionism played out frightfully
the
tent pole pants effect so willfully clinched
or just a hint or suggestion not
down there
in the treacherous crotch of my too too long limbs
but upstairs
the half of 6’6’’ to the giddy glaring viscous vicissitudes of the flight just inside
the mind there
clattering about and making quite a mess there at the eyes at
the corner like some pre-come ejaculate only
clear.
Eventually with enough clothes on to brave the chill:
a good brand of walking
shoe bright white and new
rubber at the bottom to absorb my falls of foot
socks
white too and thick enough to absorb
jeans thicker then socks and deep ocean
blue
jockey underwear more white and more absorbing
a tee shirt white adorned
with a copy of a Hopper
man in a flat clutter office looking out on ridges
and
towers of a city roof and past that the man made
building landscape whose one
side is highlighted
yellow as is the man’s desk he looks from and
all that
is hidden beneath the softest cotton softly
clashing pastels is in turn hidden
beneath the gray
on black of the plastic and cotton mix of fabric
making up
the zip up front high collared sweater
which hides except at the neck and hands
under
the black of freshly blackened smooth cowhide
zipped up by the brass
zipper hiding behind
a flap of the self same leather jacket.
And on top of
all that sits, above my too thin mug
and holding down my wild and waving hair
a
cap of every color imagined bright wool bands
around the head I step out fresh
and new to the day.
To the street to the street to the street get to the street.
2.
The fresh black trail leads at its ending
the choice made between the
East tall gleaming skyscrapers
or the quiet subterfuge of white two story fronts
to the West
describing a welcoming stare of windows
beckoning to the lips
of the door frame
and the door cleverly quiet in the shadow
of the welcoming
sign come in get cozy
along the way friend’s place and the place
of old girlfriends too young and
slow to
slide through the pearly gates they send
hints of inner invisible chambers
soft
bed covers and pillows and soft smells
of desire this slow and stuffed
up hero
hasn’t the sense to take the hint why can’t
the cunt be so outward
like the jutting prick
you can’t hide your love when it’s coming
at you with
a brutal breathtaking displacer
searching blindly for the nearest penetration
penetrator
and traitor to the shaking heart
thrilling without regard to the thriller sitting
cross
legged and hot smiling and looking
deep into the center while her center warm
and
wet and comforting perfumes the air or
Okay away from all the complications
beside astride the little skinny jewish
compatriot
strolling cocksure in a full length leather coat
scraping near the
bottom of long frozen snow
with the peculiar ease of a slick pimp
but what
only 15 years at most and as lightly
experienced angry naiveté is so decked out
is
the smooth rolling gate of the cool
It’s to and from school of which the less said the better
3.
Side steps to a hardcore highway the wake
of the thousand fast car rolling
and bumping
pushing out at the delicate balance of stones
fast cars and the
distance of the bottom of the
ditch/ravine feeling the quarry of a million eyes
flashing
by and splashing me with the dust in the wind in the air at my hair and my face and
my clothes
especially the all natural textile attacked with the grim focus of
a war machine scattering its menace to the
uninformed and unbelievably idiotic
old boll ripped from plants and torn apart like a whole race of people
or the
seeker of the line of starvation wages cruel pay to assuage empty of all material
sustenance except
people flesh in abundance though close skin to the skeleton
the celebration of life circumscribed by the
absence of that which one can be
thankful for and the presence of life itself as all and be of that which is
thanked
And at five o’clock a.m. the only thing open
is an Embers with hard as stone
bright in the night
eyes to gather in a tea to temper the cold face and lungs
and
sit and be transfixed by the purity of blandness
cold plastic seats and walls
and bonds between waiter
and waited slip off as so much of one all night of it
and
the oncoming morning of classes and tests
and all such shit this plastic tea
delivers the dose
to make it through somehow the expectations
of multiple
conversations and interconnections
keep coming back to a must to avoid school
to the street to the street to the street get to the street
4.
On the way back there is a sign in the way the
Lincoln Del wiped out
by the rolling cement of progress
Like the school wiped out by the riches of Catholic
schooling
or even the quick walk to and along the edge of the highway
Now walled
in by the rolling cement of progress called 394
but it used to be there the deli
popular to locally famous
like the ubiquitous anchorman/actor/narrator Dave Moore
or
the once and still famous but at the time going through a patch Dick Van Dyke
a
line chiseled face as if the sculptor was ruthless to his bust
and somehow painted
and foppy like looking into the dark closet
and seeing the careful layering of
a whore’s or transvestite’s cheeks
amidst this but mostly more mundane suburban
locals were
damp rags and full bus pans and dirty and then hot dishes
and quick
fill the glasses and cups and quick open up
a new table for the endless line of
strangers the micro-
cosmic family units shining in the maelstrom of a weekend
night.
And still in the night warming cloth shell is stripped off
of the slick black
leather damaged at the fallen corner
and sweater on top and not to keep it warm
but to be free
of it and tower over the fawning customers in charge
of their
particular thirst and hunger their appetite
Lean over the kids and take their order and bring their order and take their money
and count their money and
pocket their money and pause for the tip and move on
glancing and waiting for the tip and on occasion it
comes and then it takes the
vein in hand and the other pushes the plunger and rushes it inside taking care of
business like an ambulatory medic
their appetite satisfied is satisfying
Or take a customer’s stuff and look it over and give him the prescribed amount to get the prescribed amount
Work hard for the money and don’t make a complete ass of yourself so that everything is okay with it
Work hard for it and gain some free time
Back to the street free warm from
the labored muscles
cooling in the more naked street in shirtsleeves
work still
has the crumpled jacket and sweater
Get to the goddamned street goddamn it!
5.
Okay enough starting pay to make a few steps so back
to the house and
past it to decision street Glenwood
leading right on to the towers miles away
in the distance.
The steps curving the asphalt two lane road across
four way stop but wait there
to the right there’s another
distraction the trees hide many places to imbibe
in
the illegal actions of a head and with the crazy
person the fellow imbiber
sending his fragile mind further
away from the security of sanity and it’s only
the beginning
of being blamed for the pratfalls of experience
And out across the tree lined parkway a swampy lake
and into the Eloise Butler
Wild Flower Garden where
seduction is just a matter of kisses on the park bench
and
again the manly tent pole by which the girl is dis-
gusted or dismayed or disoriented
her friend the flame
does not put on display such apparent appearances of lust
Love in the afternoon among the leaves and streams
balancing on an obscenely
jutting log of a branch
a few years later lovers danced in the cool spring air
dangling
above the cool creek bubbling through rocks
and sand old as the Appalachians yet
new to the wacky
eyes of the College nymph and satyr tristing in the flow
of
pure nature beauty and abundantly beautiful to eachother
the satyr takes her in
stride but the bundle up after
is too animal to believe the encounter more then
a pheromone rush.
And again deep in the grass of an open field hide the naked
thin limbs and
above the limbs the hard penis and soft vagina
meeting quickly and but for the
throaty rush of breath
and the gentle squeak the pleasure is silent and all too
brief
to linger on the delicate petite young body and the quick
flits of eyes
and hands and the thin face and dark eyes of a doe.
Swimming in Theodore Worth Lake across Glenwood from the
Gardens is like swimming
in any Minnesota lake, thick cold
mud squirming through the toes and flashes of
warm and cool
currents great bubbles of temperature rising from the muck
the
night skinned friend of the hairy Christ looking brother
arises after him in a
nearby lake is God the brother is Son Jesus
Hidden between the muck and the water surface rippling and skating
of the water
spider there beneath that and above the muck is
the skin sliding soft and smooth
and most sensuous against
her skin and tangling limbs twist through the spaces
between
her legs and the thrill of cock and cunt meeting in the cold
wet private
place is enough to get excitement to hide common
sense and to let the lowest and
most pleasant sense of all take
control and stroke and cohabitate and thrill at
the tendrils
of wicked pleasure pulsing ‘neath the quiet flesh of water
surfaces
hidden touches and slips and slides hot in cold wash
Other times splashing and cavorting and getting dangerously near
makes them
want to slap away the sea monster and get ashore
or back into the boat the black
suit expanded by large breasts
and the deep curve to the blessed ass of this Greek
woman
is as far away from touch as the sweet young thing
looking askance and
at her young roommate lover watching
us there
on shore
only her touch
on
the soft young limbs
or the tepid water of a tub drawn early that night
cradling the two in its
small space the limbs entangle
and conversation shatters time until deep into
morning
and the last heard the beautiful red head with the palest
white skin
ever has taken her own life pain bleeding at the cunt
Get on back to the goddamned street
6.
Waterfall waterfall a little down the road it follows
spring water extracted
from the factory there
never entered only passed but o the seven pools
on black
sand beaches with Yoshie on Maui
stumbling through the hazards walking embracing
and
negotiating a way out onto the small beach outlet
another place on another Isle
the Big Isle alone embracing
and loving everything the beauty of it and her and
her
lovely young Japanese smile loving being there together
but the walk out
alone on the little beach she’s gone and
it’s all about saying goodbye over the
vast Pacific Ocean
Goodbye with waterfalls is like the end of Michelle’s
great
love when it turned and she turned out to be cold
water and the sensuality of
rubbing past momentarily
a slippery boulder such as I might be and then flow down
But greatest was the waste water creek running past
Bard College and the grounds
of the Moonies Library
where innocent full fledged in its nakedness braved
the
falls and cold rapids like creatures of long ago
nymphs and satyrs bathing in
the rushing stream
never looking back at what there was to have had
forward
to whatever is to be seen and splashing naked
looking young and lovely in the
skin of under 20 years
And it’s goddamned unfortunate to get back on track
7.
One score years ago the bathing beauties and farther back
the odd little
house with the odd kid with a twisted thumb
whose mother was an ancient woman
in her 70s and he
recently was found at the adult bookstore in bondage leather
and
later gave out the information that he was choirmaster
friends are all sizes the
Greene kid with a straight leg limp
small beside the gaunt 6’ 6” or so leaning
over and laughing
as out the side of the mouth below is a funny line or two
or
the hooked hand of the macho man biker Hell’s Angels
kicked him out cause he’s
so mean but his angel friends
were company and the company they kept was good
or the customer scraping his glasses against the glass where
the cassettes
of the record store are kept and others
hide upon his entrance except the loving
friend of freaks
8.
Looking down I’m covered in mud otherwise naked
embarrassing except no
one and I am not embarrassed so not
although just a twinge of shame would be nice
nothing.
Underpants and undershirt at the factory down the street
now appointment only
if you’re an interior designer or rent
it for the night for the wedding reception
so fixed up rent
the dapper attire the uniform of gentlemen trussed up
by their
comberbuns sleek shiny silk and tight around
the collar too a true keen member
of society for once
up and stiff and proper
Witness at a friend’s nuptials and kissy shenanigans
tink tink tink kiss kiss
kiss kiss and again…
a frolic in the autumn mist in a land cold holy (min)ne(apolis)
a
graven fire in their torsos slowly merge them there
and forever accustomed to
their faces happy enough in Kansas
The loveliest ceremony are all outdoors a heaven’s blessing
for this most pastoral
and romantic rite God directs sun-
beams at ‘em and yet inside at this most honorable
occasion
to a dying family a moment gathering and frolicking
shining brightest
before the darkness the sun sets no
body is complaining about nothing a toast
to it clink
9.
And here’s a massive crossing and to the right great art
great theater
and a lovely park with a lake step off
to see a friend nearby and the car smash
the window’s
broken and the room his room is hot and still we make
mad plans
about the making of potato salad and waiting
some Ferlingetti poem beat and waiting
funny and beautiful
florid and wistful a performance to be taken as a success
for
a performer who has partaken of the bitterness of lack
of success well knows this
is a fun and a peak of success
And farther down the grand tangent road sits Calvary
Church and across an alley
from it is a five year view
three floors up and the wall is clear as red mud and
the mess
of the apartment is a great nest twisted together beneath
a light
layer of dust hiding quiet seething ready to surprise
pick up the syringe and
take it in like NY like
another shooting gallery miles away in the great midwest
miles away in the alphabet jungle beneath the row house where I live two floors
up and years away still in
the same goddamned place
rock and roll with a death
knell in the splash of a cold sweat
and the excretions of a moribund lung pool
of damp cloth
laying in wait to strangle off any retreat from the usually comfy
drawing or crafting or wrighting or guests
last place to stay except a car room
but it’s time to move on despite the many obstacles in the way.
Lovely Leah and
me steal away.
10.
A little farther down Glenwood and a little to the left
delivery driver
a delivery driver on bicycle in NY found
out can’t find the way around a toothpick
A little farther that way is the main branch of the Salvation Army
a barn of
stuff but nothing to take home maybe next time
In NYC the apartment living room furnished by the offal
of other households
left out on the street for the taking
and some raw foam rubber placed strategically
covered
tastefully in a floral cotton sheet on the chest
of drawers and strategically
at the corner holds the red victorian love seat missing a back left foot
is where
the guests are welcome and it’s good to be home
the back bedroom is always dark
and only for sleep
Let’s get on back to the street and get beyond it all y’all
11.
A lab and a place to park.
The lab was for film, movies, and saw too little of me
the parking was plentiful
when journeying downtown by car
when journeying downtown by bus stops
in the
middle of it all the sprawl all flowing down
to the streets with the high rises
above
and one street now a flat thing a parking lot
was the great rifle sport
where a pin ball machine
was so excitingly winnable it can get orgasmic
what
with the ka-thunk of a game won added on
endless party of one on one thin quarter
lasting
through the day and day and night was Shinders
brothers bookstores
catering to the narrow vision of a kid
a horror book on movie horror on one corner
perused
fondly and a seed for a flowering of books more
sophisticated and
not so sophisticated a genuine
love for the subject and on the other corner adult
comics
catering to the crazy antics of an adolescent culture
comic books like Zap and
the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers
Before torn down what was a haphazard mix of corruption
drunkenness at Moby
Dicks with their two for one happy hour
and drunks and commercial enterprises
of drugs and girls
mixing on the sidewalk in all hours of the night and early
day
an uneasy pastiche of derelict signs begged and stars strutted where
the
city’s sweat bored down into and settled where
the pristine vision of a holier
than thou city:
“flatten it out and spread it around cause when
it’s not so
concentrated it doesn’t create a shadow
easily spotted along the main thoroughfare
of down-
town Minneapolis by the blondest of eyes rolling by
before being made
pure and flat as tarred parking lot”
another rifle sport was a gallery a rogue
gallery distant
by a couple blocks from where the art gallery ghetto dwells
which
gave itself over to Beelzebub via Gurdjief and a performance art poetry event where
drunkenness
achieved by fine armagnac clouded the dry ice tub’s watery tumble
finale
and yes where the disaster fell it is not there it is flat as a parking
lot