Tuesday Poem, "Men," by Bert Stern

Men

Kenny's bad boy's across the street,

washing his car, a black Camarro

with V8 engine, white letter

tires, and Holly carbs,

just like his dad's.

Sundays, they both drive out

to car shows, but my show's

just out the window, where the cars

lie dreaming like black cats.

Around here, people are

their cars, even the heap

another father and son lie under

in their driveway chop shop

next door to Kenny's.

As for Angie, the kid

washing his Camarro, I know

his dirty little secrets. I saw him

on the avenue yesterday, outside

his car, laid back against the burnished

hood, telling a brown-skinned girl

to get in. Instead, she tossed

her black hair and walked away,

he still yelling as she moved

fast down the street, already

half a block away. For a moment

he froze in wrathful astonishment,

then, like a flash, his u-turn

trails stink of burnt rubber.

I saw him catch her, drag her in

almost before she could scream,

and they're off to where I don't

want to think about.

I know there's karma somewhere,

but across the street, as Angie wipes

a chamois over the car's flanks, his face

is open and innocent as a child's.

Watching him, I shake my head.

Maybe he'll get better as years

press down on him. Or maybe,

just now, he's touched as I am

by the clear sky of Mary's blue

hanging over us, as if to soothe

our frayed angers and heal

the bruised heart of the girl,

naked, defenseless against us.

by Bert Stern

from his book, Steerage

published by Ibbetson Street Press

Bert is Milligan Professor Emeritus at Wabash College and chief editor, retired, at Hilton Publishing. He and his wife, Tam Lin Neville, co-edit a small press that publishes books by poets over sixty. He also teaches at a program in Boston for people on probation.

He has a long list of credits, reviews and poems which have been published. His critical study, Wallace Stevens: Art of Uncertainty, was published by the University of Michigan Press in 1965.

Steerage, his first book of poems, may be purchased from Ibbetson Press.

In my most vague and peculiar way, I've been trying, without doing much of anything, to get in contact with Bert Stern. Of course, a friend had left his e-mail in my e-mail box a month ago, but I didn't notice. Finally, I did it and he's given me permission to use his work which I will do for the next few weeks on Tuesday Poem.

Bert is a most charming and gregarious man, often to be found at the Bagel Bard's meeting place at Au Bon Pain in Somerville on Saturday mornings. I hope to see him there this week.