And Jane came by with a lock of your hair. She said that you gave it to her that night that you planned to go clear.
Sincerely, L. Cohen.
THE ENERGY OF SLAVES
WELCOME TO THESE LINES
Welcome to these lines
There is a war on
but I’ll try to make you comfortable
Don’t follow my conversation
it’s just nervousness
Didn’t I make love to you
when we were students of the East
Yes the house is different
the village will be taken soon
I’ve removed whatever
might give comfort to the enemy
We are alone
until the times change
and those who have been betrayed
come back like pilgrims to this moment
when we did not yield
when we steadfastly refused
to call the darkness poetry
THE ONLY POEM
This is the only poem
I can read
I am the only one
can write it
I didn’t kill myself
when things went wrong
I didn’t turn
to drugs or teaching
I tried to sleep
but when I couldn’t sleep
I learned to write
I learned to write
what might be read
on nights like this
by one like me
PORTRAIT OF A GIRL
She sits behind the wooden shutters
on a very hot day
The room is dark, the photographs gloomy
She is profoundly worried
that her thighs are too big
and her ass fat and ugly
Also she is too hairy
The lucky American girls are not hairy
She sweats too much
There is a fine mist caught
on the darks hairs above her mouth
I wish I could show her
what such hair and haunches
do for one like me
Unfortunately I don’t know who she is
or where she lives
or if indeed she lives at all
There is no information about this person
except in these lines
and let me make it clear
as far as I’m concerned
she has no problem whatsoever
I PERCEIVED THE OUTLINE OF YOUR BREASTS
I perceived the outline of your breasts
through your Hallowe’en costume
I knew you were falling in love with me
because no other man could perceive
the advance of your bosom into his imagination
It was a rupture of your unusual modesty
for me and me alone
through which you impressed upon my shapeless hunger
the incomparable and final outline of your breasts
like two deep fossil shells
which remained all night long and probably forever
THE ESCAPE
O darling (as we used to say)
you are wide-hipped and kind
I’m glad we got over the wall
of that loathsome Zen monastery
We are not exactly young
but there is still some pleasure
to be squeezed from these leather bags
Even as we lie here in Acapulco
not quite in each other’s arms
several young monks walk single-file
through the snow on Mount Baldy
shivering and farting in the moonlight:
there are passages in their meditation
that treat our love and wish us well
I AM DYING
I am dying
because you have not
died for me
and the world
still loves you
I write this because I know
that your kisses
are born blind
on the songs that touch you
I don’t want a purpose
in your life
I want to be lost among
your thoughts
the way you listen to New York City
when you fall asleep
1967
I know there’s no such thing
as hell or heaven
I know it’s 1967
but are you sleeping have you slept
with any of my friends
It’s not just something I want to know
it’s the only thing I want to know
not about the mystery of G-d
not about myself
and am I the beautiful one
The only wisdom I want to have
is to know if I am
or if I am not alone in your love
UGLY IN MY OWN EYES
Whenever I happen to see you
I forget for a while
that I am ugly in my own eyes
for not winning you
I wanted you to choose me
over all the men you know
because I am destroyed
in their company
I have often prayed for you
like this
Let me have her
THERE ARE NO TRAITORS
There are no traitors among women
Even the mother does not tell the son
they do not wish us well
She cannot be tamed by conversation
Absence is the only weapon
against the supreme arsenal of her body
She reserves a special contempt
for the slaves of beauty
She lets them watch her die
Forgive me, partisans,
I only sing this for the ones
who do not care who wins the war
I LEFT A WOMAN
I left a woman waiting
I met her sometime later
she said, Your eyes are dead
what happened to you, lover
And since she spoke the truth to me
I tried to answer truly
Whatever happened to my eyes
happened to your beauty
O go to sleep my faithful wife
I told her rather cruelly
Whatever happened to my eyes
happened to your beauty
INVISIBLE TONIGHT
I am invisible tonight
Only certain shy women see me
All my hideous days of visibility
I longed for their smiles
Now they lean out of their shabby
plans-for-the-evening
so we may salute one another
Sisters of mine
of my own shattered people
going after third-choice lovers
they smile at me to indicate
that we can never meet
as long as we permit
this order of things to persist
in which we are the wretched ones
LOVE IS A FIRE
Love is a fire
It burns everyone
It disfigures everyone
It is the world’s excuse
for being ugly
YOU TORE YOUR SHIRT
You tore your shirt
to show me where
you had been hurt
I had to stare
I put my hand
on what I saw
I drew it back
It was a claw
Your skin is cured
You sew your shirt
You throw me food
and change my dirt
THREAT
This is a threat
Do you know what a threat is
I have no private life
You will commit suicide
or become like me
DARK AT FOUR O’CLOCK
It gets dark at four o’clock now
The windshield is filled with night and cold
the motor running for the heater’s sake
We finally forgive ourselves
and touch each other between the legs
At last I can feel the element of welcome in our kisses
FAR FROM THE SOIL
Terez and Deanne elude me
Terez and Deanne
that is how great a poet I am
SKYLINE
and artist too
I could grow to love
the fucking in New York
far from the soil
but dreamy and courageous
MY ROOM
Come down to my room
I was thinking about you
and I made a pass at myself
THE ROAD TO LARISSA
I was lost
when I met you on the road
to Larissa
the straight road between the
