Handbills

   Handbills



   There is a post outside the Student Union

   Covered with old handbills

   I cannot quite make out

   The season is fall

   It's Hari Krishnas

   And Beethoven and

   Evylyn Wood

   (But Susan wouldn't)

   And Christ Loves You

   I don't know

   I never met the guy

   Maybe he'll be at the

   Auditorium On Tuesday

   To Give Blood and

   Weep For Chile

   But the dates are all gone

   When did it happen,

   Am I too early or too late?

   Copyright 2000 by H. L. Rucks. All rights reserved.

   Planet X


   Something always seems

   On the edge of nothing

   Like out beyond Uranus.

   You don't see it quite,

   Until you're upon it.

   Maybe there's another planet out there,

   Beyond Pluto even,

   Called Planet Alienation--

   Or simply Planet X.

   Nobody ever goes near it.

   They avoid it like the plague.

   And then suddenly one night

   There's a party there.

   There's a band and hors-d'oeuvres

   And free cigarettes in slender silver cases

   And stars swimming in the vast aquarium

   Of the night sky.

   And you think, this is it!

   I have arrived at last!

   But nobody comes,

   Except you.

   Copyright 2000 by H. L. Rucks. All rights reserved.

   Nocturne


   A girl called me in the middle of the night.

   I once loved her.

   She wanted to know if I still did.

   She was drunk.

   I couldn't remember.

   Outside my window

   Orion was drifting by,

   A zillion quarks

   Slam-dancing with matter.

   Had I left love floating

   Somewhere back in time?

   By then the test was over.

   She'd hung up,

   The moonlight bathed my sheets

   Where quarks pierced

   Spaces huge as canyons.

   Copyright 2000 by H. L. Rucks. All rights reserved.




		Monday (A collage) Frantic late Running in the crowd Wearing your best image Better than nakedness All head, hips, heart Pushing to get there Clouds depress bloody Monday spies Ignorance, sex, love Waving the flag, yourself Anger Rampaging in the hollow Of the group On page six Elderly Couple Eats Pets Reshuffling the events Of Sunday The truth sinking into Secret files Down into crevices Beneath the conscious street Every drop of Knowledge, power, Forgiveness missing The money vultures Wheeling low in the distance, Counting. Copyright 2000 by H. L. Rucks. All rights reserved.

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