Poems
by Gary Beck
Westward
The stagecoach in the Old West
was a great innovation
allowing people
to spread civilization
to undeveloped towns
with limited resources.
As a child I saw Western movies
where bandits robbed stagecoaches.
If the movies were accurate,
few passengers arrived safely
and the sheriffs posses
mostly did not catch the crooks.
In one of the shoot-em-ups
the bandits disabled the stagecoach,
forced passengers to walk
through hostile territory,
where the Indians killed them
for trespassing on their lands.
The outraged townspeople
attacked the Indians
instead of the bandits,
proving scientifically
they still had not learned
the principle of cause and effect.
Siren Dirge
Once again adrift
in the alluring city,
heeding the promise
of safety, security,
deceived
like most others
when disaster strikes,
mugging, bike crash,
so many ways
for the urban appetite
to devour us
in canyons of concrete,
reflected
by glass indifference.
Bus Ride
The hulking guy
got on the bus,
sat down across from me.
He was big, smelly,
tangled beard and hair,
eyes bloodshot, wild,
mumbling to himself,
then started yelling:
Shes a prostitute.
Theyre out to get me.
You disrespected me.
When he looked at me
I stood up and got off the bus.
Im 76 years old
and couldnt deal with
a crazy guy.
Maybe I was overreacting,
but the nice black lady
got off with me and asked:
Did you see the devil in him?
I dont know if it was the devil,
but he scared me.
I didnt know what to say
and I was embarrassed
to admit I was scared.
I dont know what I saw, Maam,
but I didnt want to be near
that disturbed man.
Have a nice day,
and I walked away,
trying to decide
if I should go
to the next bus stop.
Wasted
The rejected of our land
wander deranged streets
far removed from coherence
so they cannot access
salvation services.
They pass unwelcoming houses
that still retain existence,
cannot find sustenance,
are blown away
by unkind winds.
Manhattan Byways
Invisible armies
infiltrate the city
sent by the lords of profit
to gentrify neighborhoods,
disengage the poor,
dwindle the middle-class,
retain useful elements
of the working class
as long as they serve willingly,
remove affordable housing
until all thats left
are tourist accommodations,
playgrounds of the rich,
decayed buildings
with evaporating holdouts,
dreaming of
the French Revolution.
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