©Moronic Ox Literary Journal - Escape Media Publishers / Open Books
Poetry
The Poetry of Mitchell Waldman
"Blueprints to Black", "American Cheese on Wonder Bread", "Snow"




      Blueprints to Black
      Mitchell Waldman

      Newspapers blowing in the streets
sticking to granite walls
matchstick corpses piled naked in a pit
blueprints to Crematoria # 1, 2, 3 and 4
signed, stamped, and filed
letters imploring supervisors to work faster
get the job done
invoking laws of supply and demand
there are deadlines
and budgets to meet

and finally, done!--
the architect and engineer smile,
greet each other by the water cooler
for a paper cup toast,
and shake each others hands.

A charcoal gray sky
rain falling lazily in cold fat droplets
steady, unceasing
like the transports
the constant squeal of infants

shoes of all sizes lined neatly on the racks
eyeglasses stored in great boxes
hair like hay rolled and bound
      proud trademark on the oven makers' kiln

a faceless soldier bent over at the sight
counting bodies
then failing
falling to the ground
hand over his eyes
crying silent tears.

Cold night lying alone on a mattress
not a sound but the refrigerator's hum
the rain dripping against the window pane
the distant wail of a freight train
and the echo of an infant, a sea of infants     wailing--

it will yet be night
it will yet be night.


American Cheese on Wonder Bread
Mitchell Waldman

Crackers crumbling
don’t dirty the sheets
eyeballs humming
songs of a third eye
sticky fog remembrance
of the way things used to be
rag doll with one arm hanging by a thread
a child’s shell-shocked look and tears
ghost of horror flick screams
the way she stood looking at him
hands on hips
shaking her head
flies buzzing around the garbage cans
dim sickle of a moon
in the corner of the cloudy eye sky
as he walked down the steps
trees bowing their naked limbs
tomato unpicked left over, rotted on the vine
newspaper crushed, rolling down the street
tumbleweed
sunless sky with bur of icy winds
walking tall
about two foot three

beer cans for friends
American cheese on Wonder Bread
hold the mayo
only wonder
video faces
carwash embraces
surrounded by hollow voices
and silence
and questions--

in a panic
looking for the arm of the doll
that fell off.






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Snow
Mitchell Waldman

Every day there were
more and more reports
that the snow was coming.
And he would wait
dull-eyed, tired
propped by his window
searching for the first
crystal flakes of winter.
Locked in his room
he was impatient in his waiting--
with walnut cane
he would hobble through the streets
on rickety legs,
bones cracking,
down to the diner
for his daily soup.
And then he'd walk back
as if his life were a clock
ticking down
the streets a still life
of man with cane
in a world no longer his.
  His eyes would meet no one's
  only sweep past the rushing
  flash of a coat or dress or boot.
Creeping back through the silence
back through the musty hallway
back to his room
feebly rubbing his hands by the stove
huddling in a blanket by the window
he would sit,
waiting for the snow.

in the clouds of grace
can smile,
while down below,
the rest of us carry umbrellas
or don't,
waiting for the endless skies of gray to clear.
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About the Author
Mitchell Waldman is the author of the short story collection, Petty Offenses and Crimes of the Heart (Wind Publications, August, 2011), and the novel, A Face in the Moon. His fiction, poetry, and essays have appeared in numerous publications, online and off, including The Fringe Magazine, Waterhouse Review, The Big Stupid Review, Troubadour 21, eFiction Magazine, Milk Sugar, Pulse Literary Journal, Litsnack, Red Fez, The Houston Literary Review, Wind Magazine, The Piker Press, trans lit, New Aesthetic, Wilderness House Literary Journal, Eclectic Flash, The Battered Suitcase, and HazMat Review. Waldman also serves as Fiction Editor for Blue Lake Review. http://mitchwaldman.homestead.com
Mitchell Waldman