John Vieira


13 epigrams

coming from lowell
the kerouac & whistler
hometown & running
off from there like they did &
ed avedesian too

kerouac with whom
my mother went to high school
came out of a bar
& the rest was the same joke
on her & him & us all

the church doors were locked
& not temporarily
i could not come back
in other words it was sold
no one else could it redeem

my grandmother's priest
fr armand morissette
young K.’s confessor
in addition to pastor
was chaplain for the rockettes

always hanging clothes
strong woman everyone said
communicant of
now-long-closed st. jean baptiste 
though their credit union thrives

i was a sucker
living through my primary
& secondary
education as if there
was any hope of escape

the town got its name
from francis cabot lowell
manufacturer
of cotton cloth in his mills
wooing young women off farms

talking to myself
what was kerouac wanting
i say half aloud
that one could be ecstatic
every moment of the day

don't call on the ghosts
let them go to their right place
although some swear so
these aren't poor imitations
of mexico city blues

scaled trees on the banks
near the concord river bridge
were our masts as kids
conceiving ourselves on ships
shoving off to near manhoods

honeysuckle smells
the big semis on that bridge
making sounds like surf
i know damn well where i am
but dream of something wider

our best instruction
doesn't come from our prodding
like a keen teacher
but just from our being with
our trust in equality

there is just one thing
there is just one thing to say
one thing not to say
(’ti’ jean says) one difference
one sameness one con-scien-ce

Born in Lowell, Massachusetts, John Vieira has worked in many different genres/media, including conventional poetry. He presently divides his time between the Washington, DC area and NYC.

 
 

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