Six 'stanzons'
written in France, last April.


'Don Juan done'

to wake up beside her that morning
was disconcerting
not because of what I remembered of
the previous night
because overnight she had changed into
her mother
who opened her eyes and told me that she
did not approve of me as her daughter's
and seconds later her mother walked into
the room and instantly changed into the daughter
with whom I thought I'd spent the night
as might be expected she expressed dismay
as well as disgust to find me in bed with
her mother
then out of a closet stepped her twin sisters
who took off their clothes and proceeded to
make passionate lesbian love to their
mother/sister and sister/mother
a spectacle which general consensus would
have me find exciting
since no-one bothered to in any way
involve me in the love-making
I decided to call it a day
and stepped out of the house
into the evening
intent on and ready for
fresh conquests


'the ago-go girl'

the skin between the third and fourth toes
of her left foot was fused half-way up their
length measured from the foot and at the age
of eighteen she'd had an abortion in London
her eyes were those of someone amazed
at the cynicism they expressed no
matter what or whom they beheld
she rather recklessly experimented with
LSD and smoked cannabis while getting
drunk on Lager beer her elder sister's
toes were faultless and she played the
flute and moreover even after quite
a few beers she managed to keep
boys and men out of her bed and so
she went on to have a minor career
whereas her fused-toed sister gave
up hers as a journalist to marry
a highly skilled artisan wholly in
accordance with her tendency to
read paragraphs from Karl Marx's
'Das Kapital' in public it is very
likely that at least two of her toes
never suffered a fungal infection


'an evening walk'

the most noticeable aspect
of her footfall
was its abrupt cessation
followed by a thud
of clearly more than feet
and by an exclamation
swinging in mood
from unpleasant surprise
to brief pain

she stumbled upon (and into)
a newly dug grave
a depth of six feet (as prescribed)
one foot - her left foot -
fell in first
(one foot in the grave)
almost immediately followed
by the rest of her

darkness fell
that evening in October
feet fell as well
and she did too
highlighting the relation
between gravity and grave


'I love you'

it would supposedly be thought best
by those remaining to read them
for one's final written words to be

I love you

those remaining to read them
might well think better of the author
for having as his last ones
the words

I love you

I will still not subject them
and myself
to the tedium of writing nothing but

I love you I love you I love you
I love you I love you I love you

surely they will see what I mean
by avoiding such mindless repetitiveness
such sympathy-seeking recidivism
risking repetitive strain injury
to my hand as well as
to the readers' brains
for the love of them
for the love of you


'thinking and doing'

I think
therefore I am
therefore I am
thinking that I am

and now I've stopped
thinking that I am thinking
not thinking as such
now I am thinking
of two dandelions two
dandelions yellow and yellow
in the green green grass


I'll be thinking of something else
of someone else
bending over to pick herself
two dandelions
bowing low to everybody else
but me
I'm beginning to see
what I think of
when I think of you
as I do when I do

and I do



a fairy's tail kept clenched
between her grinning jaws
she strode through the marbled hall
marbles catapulted this way and that
by the impact of her feet
large feet she had
she was
a large woman dwarfing
the two half-bald chubby men
walking by her sides
one bald on the left
one bald on the right
on her right side the one bald on the left
on her left side the one rightly bald
both clad in full suits of armour
the awesome clanging of their metal-shod
feet could not quite drown out
the thudding of her steps
the three of them
spitting marbles as it were
proceeded to the far side
of the hall and left it
walking straight through
the fata morgana wall there
for that was what it must
have been
for apparitions they
were far too loud

Levi Wagenmaker

If you have any comments on this poem, Levi Wagenmaker would be pleased to hear from you.