Monthly Archives: July 2013

Men at the Coffeehouse

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1

I see him coming in,

in long white tee with photo

of a band I don’t recognize,

faded skinny jeans,

navy canvas shoes.

 

Cute haircut, sides short,

longer top and back,

like a fauxhawk, but

with less fuss on top.

 

Black plastic glasses,

short black beard.

Multicolor-striped backpack

slung over right shoulder.

 

 

2

Thirty-something guy,

shaved head and close-trimmed beard;

blue T-shirt and slate-grey shorts,

tan deck shoes, plastic

wristbands, various colors.

Busy at his laptop,

consulting book that

looks scriptural, with

leather cover, gold-edged leaves.

Drinking his iced coffee

over by the windows.

He takes a call,

switches tables.

 

 

3

Dark-haired college due

(where are the blonds tonight?),

with heavily shadowed jaw,

in pale lavender T-shirt,

white synthetic shorts

that hug his ass when

he walks to the bar,

plain black flip-flops,

hanging out with friends.

 

 

4

African American employee,

looking sharp in olive shirt and tie,

tall with short, tight dreads,

fashionable and handsome.

 

 

5

Backward cap, jacket over

red-and-white striped shirt,

black skinny shorts,

brightly colored jacquard socks

above black trainers,

crossing street out front.

 

 

6

Three friends at a table:

 

First one wears aquamarine V-neck,

with pendant hanging from chain,

neutral-colored plaid shorts,

red canvas shoes.

Dark hair, beard, and glasses.

 

Second one rocks high-rolled

navy chinos with sandals,

dark-grey chambray shirt,

unbuttoned over slim tank.

Sports Morrissey-style pompadour.

 

Third has dark hair too,

well-groomed and shiny,

a hint of moustache and goatee.

Wears khaki-colored jeans

rolled above sneakers.

Open face, cute grin,

lambent brown eyes,

bubbly personality.

 

Two goes to bar for refill,

One hoists backpack

and exits with parting hug from Three.

Two returns and chats with Three.

 

 

7

Hipster type sitting near the door

wears black studs in ears.

Shaggy-cut brown hair, long on side,

flopping down in front of ear,

distinctive nose.

He’s in a turquoise tee,

just a touch too short,

dark skinny jeans, not belt,

checkerboard-patterned slip-on sneaks.

He’s talking with a girl;

they finish coffees and leave together.

 

 

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper

Tree Dude

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Driving up the street toward my neighbor’s house

in a beat-up red piece of shit,

fender bashed in and door barely hanging on,

he veers wildly, runs over curb,

and bangs back onto the street.

Not an accident, just the way he drives,

a dude who’s come to help cut a tree

and pick up the branches after the storm.

He jumps out of the car, cigarette

dangling out of his mouth,

in jeans, boots, bright blue cap.

He’s tall, muscular, shirtless,

covered with tattoos on back and front;

the most prominent one looks

from a distance like a cross,

but turns out to be a hug Libran scale,

complemented by starbursts on the shoulder blades.

Can’t get a close enough look to

sort out exactly what’s on his chest and arms.

After a few minutes of work, he’s hot and sweaty,

his rippling muscles shining with perspiration,

pecs and biceps hardening as he raises

a log overhead like a barbell,

glutes firm under snug jeans as he lifts.

I think one of my trees might need trimming.

 

 

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper

Transgender Social Mathematics

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He was a he trapped in a she,

she was a she confined in a he;

Now he has escaped from the prison of she,

and she has diffused from the limits of he.

And he has fallen for her, and she has fallen for him,

so that he and she have become

a sane, happy, united they.

 

He minus she equals he.

She minus he equals she.

He plus she equals they.

They roughly equals we.

 

So we can accept and be glad for them.

 

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper

On “Tatjana, Veiled Head, Tight View”

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In a portrait Ritts shot at Joshua Tree,

her head wrapped in black cloth,

a sheer veil both reveals her face

and curtains it off from us.

Her eyes, perhaps green or blue

(the photograph’s in black and white),

under gracefully arching brows,

cast an open gaze, frank despite its masking.

Her other features, a slender classic nose,

lips full but not unnaturally enhanced.

Though I know neither the woman nor her story,

her expression’s that of a confidant woman,

who knows what she wants and how

to get it without compromising herself,

who makes her own choices about

what and when to display, conceal.

The veil adds texture to her countenance

in the way of cracks in the paint

of a Renaissance portrait not yet restored.

Mostly the photo emphasizes

the left-and-down diagonal threads

making up the veil, suggesting

optimistic motion, but

over the woman’s left cheekbone,

to the viewers’ right when facing the image,

the crossthreads stand out more,

as if on a face in the aftermath of tears.

Her composure has arrived perhaps

by way of sorrow as well as joy.

 

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper