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Two Poems
by Jesse Lichtenstein


Danzig

I lived quietly, at
intervals, in Danzig.
Nobody knew me there. To evade

detection I didn't speak.
I waited in lines for no reason

(others did this and worse).
In winter the clocks reversed.
For three days I watched the linden

through the kitchen window
and it did not die.

By spring there was more meat
and certain greens.
The linden bloomed in June—

its perfume was a reward.

I learned which lines led where
I didn't wish to go.

Bats, Belfries

I got in late last night
and when I woke I swear

the place looked like thistle.
A generative grammar

can't even object.
A generative language is what

we want but meanwhile the truly
mad convened

in a meeting of the under-
mined.

It is not so
fashionable to ail

as once it was, observed
the cultural observer.

The truly truly mad said
roll back

the reforms, let's make
mean pie.