o man


How many loves had I
in young boy's bed,
at Humarock, or Provincetown's
Cape Cod, under sweating summer sun,

after Land's End, before their interruption.
How many loves had I?

in discourse by firelight, after highballs
to records of Marlene Dietrich and Cole Porter,
how many loves had I?

in Swampscott flat, or Beacon Hill house,
Beacon Street garage or Fiedler overpass,
how many loves had I?

How many loves, in Annandale
beofre payment or threat, in the Public Gardens
or Fifth Avenue park, how many loves--

None, none, none at all


from "Cultural Affairs in Boston" by John Wieners

Just flipping through the back of the book tonight after a day long 7 hour nap and I came across this one. I say "o man" at the top because it's like a g*ddamn autobiography. This is what happens when ones favorite poet grows up and lives in the same area. References to that hook up spot in Hingham where you went with Jamey W (mmm, Jamey...what's he up to these days?) in high school also end up in an incredibly beautiful, post-Romantic evocative of Romantic, sad love poem.