POEMS/ Tattoos: Cold December Night on a Packed A Train
Tattoos: Cold December Night on a Packed A Train
In front of me, in my face, it’s so close,
a naked arm, covered with black-inked tattoos,
its owner, in thread-bare trousers, and white t-shirt,
left arm covered by his jacket, right arm naked,
on full display, catalogues his trophy arm
for anyone who asks: down from his shoulder,
his biceps, to his wrist, and all around, inked
images of New York landmarks: the Chrysler Building,
Grand Central Station, the Twin Towers, still standing,
Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, and more.
His New York Arm, he confesses just before his stop,
took one full day on each of ten weeks. The value
of his tattooed arm he boasts, outweighs its costs
in money, time, and pain.
We rattle on uptown, and I reflect on how many times
we’ve moved—enough for a full-body of tattoos:
D.C., Boston, London, L.A., Tenafly, Chicago, Sparkill,
Heidelberg, Farmington, and now, Norwich, Vermont.
Each place has left incisions etched indelibly
beneath, not on, my aging skin.
From Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)
In front of me, in my face, it’s so close,
a naked arm, covered with black-inked tattoos,
its owner, in thread-bare trousers, and white t-shirt,
left arm covered by his jacket, right arm naked,
on full display, catalogues his trophy arm
for anyone who asks: down from his shoulder,
his biceps, to his wrist, and all around, inked
images of New York landmarks: the Chrysler Building,
Grand Central Station, the Twin Towers, still standing,
Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, and more.
His New York Arm, he confesses just before his stop,
took one full day on each of ten weeks. The value
of his tattooed arm he boasts, outweighs its costs
in money, time, and pain.
We rattle on uptown, and I reflect on how many times
we’ve moved—enough for a full-body of tattoos:
D.C., Boston, London, L.A., Tenafly, Chicago, Sparkill,
Heidelberg, Farmington, and now, Norwich, Vermont.
Each place has left incisions etched indelibly
beneath, not on, my aging skin.
From Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)
