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Marq T. Laube

of

San Francisco, CA, US

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Into the Streets

by

Marq T. Laube

quick!
before the night falls
leaving us once again
feeling (as night-blind prey)
that itąs too late to move,
too unsafe,
let us run off into the city and
begin to play upon the streets
tease a tourist
grab a doughnut
(I know an all-night place)
eat and laugh, punch drunk
hanging from a cable car with a tired old
conductor
sorry to see us come
sorry to see us go
let us strectch each moment
nursing every sight
providing ironic contrast
to the urgent boredom
of the keepers of the rhythm
who on every side surround us
(at our own wish, is it not true?)
so much to do!
so much to see
in every corner of every alley
endless possibilities
of you and me
and
our city.

narcotics in the ladies room

by

Marq T. Laube

"it isn’t quite over yet."
and as he said it, desolate,
he walked right over it, then off it,
paused a moment, reconsidered,
then gathered resolute square shouldered,
i just watched till he was gone
then wondered,
"how much longer?"
which i asked,
but wouldn't've listened
had he answered, had he heard
had he still been in ear shot
had he still been here
or even near

yes, it really is quite queer
the things we allow ourselves:
the beasts we bury only to become
the burdens we carry and jealously guard
the banal we cherish to quell the overwhelming
the tethers we relish that keep us absolved

restrained exploration and fettered expression

for the price of a life we win weathered cords

essence is shut up and locked up in teacups
and i just don’t care anymore

well, nothing ventured, nothing gained
impatiently, he procrastinates
alone again and celebrating reunion
he braves a moment of self reflection
on this happy anniversary...

so lush a romantic delicacy!
but how much taste is left to the leaf
when the plant is worn
and torn and tattered,
and has for so long gone unwatered...

so proud a corporate entity!
but how much will tomorrow bring
for a bartered soul
battered and sold at the reckoning
for nothing more than a few golden rings...

and has the time arrived again so soon?
for narcotics in the ladies room
be sensible now—
not too much for every day
work it and burn it and wear me away
you can wear it any way you please
just wear it like you know what it means

This Movie

by

Marq T. Laube

listen: a hum,
a rumble, a roar
a human voice,
a soft sweet song,
a sudden breath,
a car horn

look: a scattering
of city lights
sits below
darkened skies
that stretch and loom
behind faint reflections of a room;
a table lamp, a candle light
some figures sit and dance inside
this movie

this movie that i see
this movie that surrounds indwells excites repels and blesses me

it shames photographic quality
with colors rich, intense, and live

devastating and delicate,
the sound system would make Dolby cry

it's also tactile and olfactory
a complete chemical laboratory
an interactive 3-D party
a real-time, sensuous love story.

but -
most incredibly -
almost unbelievably included with this movie
is an omnipresent

and incessant,
inexhaustible

and constant,
condescending

and contrary,
running line of commentary

Kill a Tree for Christ

by

Marq T. Laube

Kill a tree for Christ
today!
Pull funding from the arts!
Stop wasteful education spending.
What? You think the cold war’s ending?
You’re thinking with the wrong body parts.

Buy a car and drive
today.
Exploit without a care.
But fight to keep what you’ve been earning,
’cause every welfare mom is learning
how to get more than her fair share.

Burn a cross with joy
today
to cleanse your neighborhood.
Teach and preach and if they’re not hearing
remember that the end is nearing
and you only get in if you’ve been good.

Tell someone they’re damned
today.
Lighten up a room.
Explain how race riots are just for looting.
Attend the latest abortionist shooting.
Give correctional guidance—it’s your duty.
Generously mandate your point of view.
And give a contract to a hungry country.
Because it’s what you give that comes back to you.