Zócalo Public SquareRandy Cauthen – Zócalo Public Square

Second Person Plural

by Randy Cauthen — Fri, 24 May 2013 07:01:57 +0000

A man lives in an old house converted to apartments.
There is still a servants’ staircase, but now it
leads to a blank wall. And the walls are paper,
the ceilings must be crepe paper: every night
the man hears his upstairs neighbor getting it
from somebody, hears her gasping, even hears
her bed squeaking. Midnight, 2 a.m., he gapes
at the ceiling, he almost expects to see
their fluids come suffusing down through
the crepe paper, enough to put out the cigarette
he’s smoking. How they go at it, and how
he admires them: they must know he can hear,
because they must have heard him cursing when he
cracked his shin on the bedpost, they must have heard
him practice his bass. He’s even thought of
serenading them, up through the old ceiling
of the old house, but finally decides not
to complicate matters. And soon his upstairs
neighbor moves to another state, another
woman replaces her. This new woman has
no lover, all that comes through the ceiling now
is her footsteps and old delta blues, but
every so often at night he hears her cough, not
a smoker’s hack like his own, but a quick
bark, almost like she’s embarrassed. Well, he thinks,
who can blame her with all that old sex
drifting around up there? He imagines her
bolstered up with pillows reading a novel
with the word love in the title. Again he
believes he should play, really shake the old place
so she’ll feel it in her spine, but knows
it will only turn out he won’t be able to say
good morning to her when they meet picking
up the paper. Every night he lies in bed
thinking about these women, the one
loud with her lover, the other holding her
loose fist to her mouth to cough. Which one
makes him feel sadder? It is impossible to say.
He wishes them well, he is embarrassed by
both of them, by himself. In fact, the only
thing he can think of that isn’t embarrassing is
the people who built the now ramshackle
house, the mild pranks the children must have played
on the servants. Maybe the ghosts of children
share his room, maybe they grew up and moved
away, or they may be together still, down
at the wealthy cemetery. The servants
ascend the staircase, up through the paper wall.

The post Second Person Plural appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.

Night

by Randy Cauthen — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 08:01:01 +0000

the old woman
rocks that boy
just as she had
his father before him
rocks him while he’s crying
his arm round her neck
eyes clenched but
loose enough
to let the tears past
rocks him rocks him
her eyes tracing the same line
up and down the far wall
rocks him as he’s yawning
with his face pressed
to her shoulder rocks him
till he falls asleep standing up
then she can stand up herself
and go to lay him down
just as she had
just as she had
his father before him

The post Night appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.

I Saw Death on the Third Street Promenade

by Randy Cauthen — Fri, 08 Jun 2012 06:14:42 +0000

wearing a creamcolor suit and

muttering at his blackberry and
eating a five-dollar widget of chocolate
with shades on to keep from meeting
the homeless veterans’ eyes

once I saw him once
I started recognizing him
everywhere I went

saw him at Washington Mutual at the ATM
Death goes to the same bank I do

saw him exchanging jokes
with the ex-SAVAK agents
at the Coffee Bean in Tehrangeles
he had four espressos

I saw Death in Sam’s bookstore
leafing through Gibbon
Death licks his finger to turn the page
then doesn’t buy the book
the bastard
I should read Gibbon

I saw Death in Ocean Park
ogling the coeds in their one-pieces
well ogling everybody
including me
that’s what bad taste Death has

Randy Cauthen is Associate Professor of English and Poet in Residence at Cal State, Dominguez Hills. His books are The Use of Force (poems), Black Letters: An Ethnography of Legal Writing, and a forthcoming book of poems he has not figured out what to call. As an actor, he has appeared in the World Premiere of Samuel Beckett’s Radio One. Originally from Charleston, South Carolina, he now lives in Los Angeles.

*Photo courtesy of Snap Man.

The post I Saw Death on the Third Street Promenade appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.