At the Trial of Hamlet, Chicago, 1994, Sherman Alexie

[moireach.livejournal.com]

At the Trial of Hamlet, Chicago, 1994
Sherman Alexie

Did Hamlet mean to kill Polonius? Diane and I sit at a table
with the rich, who have the luxury to discuss such things
over a veal dinner. The vegetables are beautiful! I am here
because I wrote a book which nobody here has read, a book
that Diane reads because she loves me. My book has nothing
to do with Hamlet. My book is filled with reservation Indians.
Maybe my book has everything to do with Hamlet. The millionaire
next to me sets down one of his many forks to shake my hand.
He tells me the poor need the rich more than the rich need the poor.
Abigail Van Buren eats corn at the next table. I read this morning
she has always believed homosexuality is genetic. Finally. Dear Abby
can have all the corn she wants! I'll pay. She wears a polka dot dress
and is laughing loudly at something I know is not funny.
Did Hamlet really see his father's ghost? Was there a ghost? Was
Hamlet insane or merely angry when he thrust his sword through
that curtain and killed Polonius? The millionaire tells me
taxi cab drivers, shoeshine men, waiters, and waitresses exist
only because the rich, wearing shiny shoes, often need to be driven
to nice restaurants. A character actor walks by with a glass of wine.
I recognize him because I'm the type of guy who always recognizes
character actors. He knows that I recognize him but I cannot tell
if he wants me to recognize him. Perhaps he is afraid that I am
confusing him with another character actor who is more or less
famous. He might be worried that I will shout his name incorrectly
and loudly, transposing first and last names, randomly inserting
wild syllables that have nothing to do with his name. Did Hamlet
want to have sex with his mother Gertrude? Was Hamlet mad with jealousy
because Claudius got to have sex with Gertrude? When is a king
more than a king? When is a king less than a king? Diane is gorgeous.
She wears red lipstick which contrasts nicely with her brown skin.
( We are the only Indians in Chicago! No, we are the only Indians )

Gravity | Maura O'Connor

[exceptindreams.livejournal.com]

"Gravity"
Maura O'Connor

Today I am fragile
pale
twitching
insane and full of purpose.

I'm thinking of my lover:
my soft hips pressing his coarse belly,
my tongue on a salmon nipple,
his hand buried in my thick orange hair
the telephone ringing.

I'm thinking we tend our illnesses
as if they are our children:
fevered
screaming
demanding attention and twenty dollar bills,
hours we could have spent making love with the television on.

Faith is a series of calculations
made by an idiot savant.
I'm in love.
I'm alone
in this city of painted boxes
stacked like alphabet blocks
spelling nothing.

( There are things I know... )