20161006 (itch)

It's right about there under the S of Scapula on the drawing that is the unscratchable zone responsible for some of our most agonizing and agonizingly pleasant moments

Do all bugs go to some school

To learn exactly where to bite

To transmit perpetual itch, that

Square inch of the scapula hands

Cannot deftly reach and soothe,

Where even rubbing up against

A coarse grinding wheel will not

Relieve us of their histaminic

Excess? We, alone, can get near

But never spot on to ease a bit

The throbbing sting. I muse God

Foresaw this limitation in his 

Creature and thought to give

Him a help mate with fingernails

And sufficient understanding to

Follow simple directions such

As, “No, over to the right, and 

Up. Yeeeaaah! That’s it.” With 

This simple wisdom of touch 

The Divine allowed they would 

Extend these directions to 

Other forms of touching 

With which to smooth

Their intimate moments into 

The very opposite of sting.

Fully cognizant of who gave 

Them this guidance the pair

Would recognize at the 

Summits of their joy with an

Intense and breathy, “Oh, God!

Oh, God! Oh, God!”  Even if 

Centuries later his children

Came to doubts, they would

Still be genetically predisposed

To that primordial cry.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016

20161005 (city)

Walking the High Line, a gardened walkway built on the tracks of the elevated running along the edge of the city, in SW Manhattan

Autumn in New York is ideal

But they mean autumn in

Manhattan, years ago when 

Branches of the trees heavily 

Laden with orange and red 

Leaves bowed over sidewalks

And boulevards. Caught just

A bit of that walking the High 

Line back to 23rd Saturday

Afternoon from the renewed

Whitney with Emily and Ben

Who live in Chelsea half a

Block from where a cooker

Bomb took out a dumpster on

The next street over. That city

Is still a pedestrian’s paradise:

Looking up to scan the variety

Of cornice crests, the front face

Grates of iron escapes, the 

Flowers in windows grasping

Their few hours of sunlight,

The curtains, blinds, arches of

Old windows, or lower still

The doorways and the stoops,

Lush but tiny gardens behind

Elaborate fences of iron cast

Over a century ago, the 

Black bars bent over air 

Conditioners to protect them

From theft but suffering names

And messages raked across

The thin fins, storefronts 

Crowded with hardware or 

With puppies at eye level

Snoozing along the windows

Without signs—people knowing

Not to rap on the glass as they

Pass by, or bare with spare

Modernity and one-word titles

Like Authority, a single clerk

And single customer discussing

Whatever it is Authority sells

Or does, narrow Thai restaurants

Jammed between electronics shops

And drug stores, occasional food

Stores stacked high with all sorts

Of nosh from near or far along 

Intricate narrow aisles where 

Shoppers must ask to get by,

Where no doubt young lovers 

Meet for the first time

Searching for the same tea

Or exotic root to use in supper

That night, a street performer

Naked but for his briefs freezing

In the low 60s, frozen into a

Pose while the curious stop to

Watch for his blink or flinch

At their presence, walkers peeping

At the occupants of nearby

Apartments who walk past their

Windows waving hello to

Their voyeurs on the old

Elevated tracks. Despite the 

Softly blowing drizzle of that

Gray day myriads of the eager

Crowd gathered to parade as 

Natives of that blessed place,

So many more than live in

That city who have perhaps

Grown weary to the visual 

Delights abounding there,

My daughter terms the visitors

“Bridge and Tunnel” New 

Yorkers, like myself who

Are not inured to the glory of

This boisterous assemblage

In so many ways more startling

Than the breathless artifices

In the museums.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016 

20160923 (fakir)

Kenneth M. Copeland's church provides him an elaborate mansion in Texas equipped with an airfield from which he flies the church's multi-million dollar jet on family vacations and preaching tours; he is a billionaire televangelist, swindler, and pied piper to the willfully ignorant. Cf. Donald J. Trump.

I’ve been watching YouTube 

Videos waiting for my cat

Sophia finally to drag her

Gallivanting furry butt in at

Night so we can all get to bed.

From College Humor to films

Explaining how to fly WWII

Fighters, how to build houses

In the third world with mud

Packed into bricks, how to

Properly pop pimples--I’ve 

Even clicked on televangelists 

To see what I’m missing, and

Discovered a whole realm 

Of willful ignorance inside a 

Citizenry rich in education.

I may be overestimating 

The intelligence of average 

Americans as I watch Kenneth 

Copeland and Creflo Dollar

Openly warp religious texts to

Scam the faithful of the last 

Pennies of their retirements or

Final hundred to max out their

Credit cards. Historically we’ve

Been notably cheatworthy from

Snake oil to the machinations of

Bernie Madoff.  Plying the trade

Today is the narcissist Donald J.

Common to these swindlers is

The enablingly unchecked jones

Of the victims for easy wealth,

Untroubled resolution of 

Individual or national disquiet. 

They want answers so deeply

They will not critique anyone

Who promises them Easy Street 

A little way down an easy road.

The Prosperity shysters call for

Seeds of a thousand dollars to be

Planted (given to their ministries)

And promise the return will be 

“An hundredfold” as it is written

In their holy book. Those late-

Night/early morning investment

Counselors reprise the claim:

“Follow our rules and you will 

Outperform the market by

Fifty, one hundred, two hundred

Percent. Set your own goals.”

Unsafe neighborhood? I’ve got

The answer. Need a job? We’ll

Bring your old one back from

Mexico. Upset that we’re losing

Wars? I’ll win them. I’ve got

A plan for anything that ails 

You. You don’t need no educated

Theologians, no experts who have

Both won and lost on Wall Street,

No politicians who’ve got years

Of solid experience. It’s all so 

Much easier than you think: 

Just give me your tithe, your

Money, your vote. The blessing

Is on its way. Your monthly

Statements will show how your

Shares and profits are growing.

Watch me. What have you got

To lose? I’m the only one who

Can handle ISIS, your taxes,

Your jobs. I’m a businessman.

I know how to create jobs. I 

Employ thousands. Solomon,

Opening Proverbs, states

His purpose: To teach

Shrewdness to the simple, 

Knowledge and prudence 

To the young—let the wise

Also hear and gain in learning,

And the discerning acquire skill,

To understand a proverb and

A figure, the words of the 

Wise and their riddles. The fear 

Of the Lord is the beginning

Of knowledge; fools despise 

Wisdom and instruction. The

Combination of greed and

Infantile will is why so many

Of our Bible-belted brothers

And sisters turn from real

Knowing to place their hopes

In charlatans.

c, J.S.Manista, 2016