Thursday 21 September 2017

Gil Fleischman

Gil

MIKULOV

In any event Just lit by myself the candles for the second night Off small road in south Morava A once classic Jewish town, now a UNESCO ghost town. Think they are the only flame in window this year Sang the songs by myself in a drab corner Felt scared and strange being alone & singing the songs of my past till I heard myself singing

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CRAB SEASON

Joy   Joy , Crab Season has begun & I have just finished  making homemade Fishing pole , cage and net Found the world’s most perfect bait To be prepared a day in the sun. August , the season of the soul Where I will spend half morning & all night tides Off South Brooklyn’s cliffs, piers and bays Rope and water to the bottom Throwing and receiving at leisure They told me as a child you could draw straight lines From here cross what English call the drink to Brighton. But still you are on the end of the world & I stay on After the last man takes his catch, Madmen and trippers try to steal my poles & Russian boys with hot bottomed trophies Are the only booming sounds left on the streets, What short thought they must give me Hanging over the water awaiting the Blue Claw You are not waiting Like in love you are alone Safe and sound under cancer sky

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WEEK TWO

Went out for crabs ready but lost my bucket in the water Jumped over the wooden bridge but the water kept the bucket Still such enjoyment carrying the poles, gear and beer Across the island to the bay What you gonna do with time spent Tell me joy as I slip back and forth Saturday Sunday Monday back

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GIL FLEISCHMAN was born in Brooklyn. He studied philosophy at New York University and poetry under Allen Ginsberg and Yevgeny Yevtushenko while poetry editor of the Minetta Review in the 90s. He has lived in Prague since 2000, City of Hills. In 2010 he read with the late Czech poet Ivan Jirous at the annual festival Noční básníků in Moravia. Currently he’s working on a collection of Brooklyn poems while back in the North East for a spell. His recent work has appeared in Grasp, Rakish Angel and the anthology From a Terrace in Prague (Litteraria Pragensia, 2011).

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