Tag: Frank Freeman poetry

Poetry

Horses and Mystical Terror by Frank Freeman

what is it—about the beating—and whipping—of horses—inthose old books? “Poor horse,”Fantine sighs in Les Misérables—as Dahlia calls her pity—absurd—what is it—Raskolnikov’s night-mare—in Molchusky’s words—“Mikolka beat the nag aboutthe eyes with a shaft, and then finishesit with a crowbar”—Raskolnikov—a child in the dream cries—screams—hugs “the blood-soaked head”—kissesit—“The cruel deed fills him with mystical terror.”—(but too late—for Raskolnikov—he’s still driven—to kill—the two old ladies)—what isit—when Nietzsche in Turin—we’re … Continue reading Horses and Mystical Terror by Frank Freeman

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

The Collar by Frank Freeman

in despair—about my writing—why couldn’t I ever get a lucky break?—like when Sherwood Anderson toldHemingway—to go to Paris—and wrotea letter for him to Gertrude Stein—orwhen Jim Harrison met Denise Levertovat a party—and she said—send me some of your poetry—voilà his firstpublished book—believe me—Icould go on—and on—I’ve readall the biographies of famous writers—each had a lucky break—or two—or more—but me?—what aboutme, goddammit!—then I looked atthe calendar—above my … Continue reading The Collar by Frank Freeman

Genna Rivieccio2 Comments
Poetry

Sam by Frank Freeman

how he turned thereon the bank of thedark river and saidfook you, get all thosebooks away from me.and I stopped andsaid, well fook you toothen. he seemed to likethat and smiled.and I said SamSam what am I goingto do? still smilinghe cocked his head.you keep going,keep going tillthe end of the road.and what then I askedwhat then?he said nothing, just stared at me still smiling.the dark … Continue reading Sam by Frank Freeman

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

The Shock of Recognition by Frank Freeman

when I was watchingan interview with a veteranwho had had to observeatomic bomb explosionshim sitting therewith this baseball mitton his right handwith cuts back and forthfrom him to scenes ofsoldiers in the desertthe flash of lightthe mushroom cloudsblack and white filmslike we had in high schoolthe terrible beautyborn here in the goodold US of A andhow he did his dutydid what they toldhim to do … Continue reading The Shock of Recognition by Frank Freeman

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

At This Moment by Frank Freeman

Robert Antelme coming back fromthe camps, as described by Duras,is shocking and moving. howhe shat green shit that bubbled.could only eat gruel for 3 weeks,had a series of fevers, then finallysaid, I’m hungry. they would put him in a room andlet him eat lamb chop after lamb chopeating alone in the room. he said,no one understands me. get angrywhen the food wasn’t ready on time. … Continue reading At This Moment by Frank Freeman

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Of Toulouse-Lautrec by Frank Freeman

only five feet tall,about the heightof my mother,with those short legs,Van Dyke beard,thick lips,pince-nez, hishat and brushesand palette. (Iwonder if theshort guy whoalways walks downStorer Streethas the same con-dition, pycnodysostosis,say that three timesfast?) how he lovedthe whores, the nightlife, their acceptance,everyone havinga good time untilit killed them. butmostly of how hepainted a portraitof Van Gogh andchallenged de Groux,who had put theDutchman down, toa duel backed … Continue reading Of Toulouse-Lautrec by Frank Freeman

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Grolier’s Bookstore by Frank Freeman

I saw Seamus Heaney onceat Grolier’s Bookstorein Harvard Square, which carriedonly poetry. He waslifting and looking at booksjust like I was. I knew whohe was, but had not readhis poetry. It crossedmy mind to ask him ifI could buy a beer for him. He saw me see him, smiledsaid nothing, just went on looking. I think he left not long after andI forget if I … Continue reading Grolier’s Bookstore by Frank Freeman

Genna Rivieccio2 Comments