Five Poems by Tony Brewer

 

Burlesque Dancer Retiring

 

for Scarlett Nopantson

 

She

getting out (of) her clothes

for good

costumes tossed

on floor & bed

 

She breaks up uniforms

sex

dressed like a wound

facing the wounded beautiful truth

out there

with her cheap look

dreamed into being

intimate as an act

 

giving it all away

like bills under a snap

pried away from flesh at the end

of the night

 

glitter on protons of pasties

snaking slay sashay like blood

coursing between tables

& packed into spare Kroger bags

 

Alone in

we’re only in it for the money

T-shirt & no panties

holy like fishnets

she shimmies through

worked over & worked by gaze

 

She’s through

$5 – $10 – free

all comers considered

for all offers a smile

 

Like this post for more

more

to come please

changing like wigs

in the backstage night

from timeless flow of stage time

to broken open over quarantine

lights dimmed with the spots off

many morning afters like this

wadded clothes & memories

of desire

& need

 

The Contract

 

Small talk being more important

than booze in holding society together

 

I ask everyone how are you?

and mean it before

getting transactional – even cops

 

smashing me with clubs

It’s the only way I’ll learn

Dad never said it but I

can hear him – he was the silent

 

type that made us kids sit

for hours in a chair as punishment

watching golf god help us

 

This only happens in civilized

cultures – I say how are you?

to soften the blow of interaction

everyone flexing neurotic tattoos

 

It’s smart not to talk

to cops smarter not to talk at all

cool breeze of swung baton

 

caressing my face like Italians kiss

then we just do business like good

Americans & leave

 

Embarrassment of Riches

 

Tearing into it

like a sloppy rib

this life I’m holding

so gingerly

to keep the whites clean

clothing I mean

& a flimsy trifold napkin

that should be a drop cloth

Fuck it

I chomp down

to the bone

& chip a tooth

smiling through gaps

dripping

marrow

wasted

I lick

the plate

clean

 

Floaters

 

Little man in a little boat

ocean as far as I can see

Embryo amid my new yolk

A hair in my brain soup

A loop I can’t follow

without chasing it offstage

My blind spot

Myopia

Speck of dust

on a vast blue window

travelling so fast it pecks

me astronaut helmet

Needle in a haystack

Planet – no – system – no

galaxy wavering in the void

still

lost and losing cohesion

Black mark on everything

a lie always on top

A mystery – a shadow

never quite sure I saw it

or is there something in there

only I can sense?

Tracking the dancer

gliding across my field

so graceful it’s as if

I’m the one moving

she’s frozen in midair – blink

– my stare

 

The Merwin Way
 

Must be cold must
be dark remote
always far but no
horizon
 
suddenly a pin
prick of light so
brilliant it cuts
 
so close eye
meets eye appraising
gods wearing
humanity by
undressing
each other
 
both mirror
and valet
so many
admiring
looks

 

Tony Brewer is a poet and audio artist from Bloomington, Indiana. He is executive director of the Spoken Word Stage at the 4th Street Festival and co-producer of the Writers Guild Spoken Word Series. His books include Hot Type Cold Read, Pity for Sale, and Fragile Batteries. Tony has been offering Poetry On Demand at coffeehouses, museums, cemeteries, churches, bars, and art and music festivals for over a decade, and he is a frequent collaborator with experimental music & field recording ensemble ORTET.