Issue > Poetry

David M. Katz

David M. Katz's poems have appeared in The New Criterion, Poetry, The Paris Review, The New Republic, Shenandoah, Southwest Review, Notre Dame Review, The Raintown Review, and The Hopkins Review. He is the author, most recently, of two books of poems published by Dos Madres Press, Stanzas on Oz and Claims of Home. The Warrior in the Forest was published by House of Keys in 1982. He lives in New York City and works as a financial journalist and editor.

Accommodations

Step right into my office. Have a seat.
I understand that we have different
Views on what should be the color of
The house. You say you want it gray, as soft
And unobtrusive as a cloudy day.
There are advantages: No one to find
Out where you live or work, no one to talk
About the value of the property.
I get that. I don't like it either. I
Can see the virtue of a veil to hide
Behind, of anonymity just steps
From being noticed. There will come a day,
However, when they're sure to find you out.
And on that day, you will become the folks
Who live behind the gray, the ones who don't
Say much—until the day you do. I think
You've got to paint it white, to be out front
Right at the start so they get used to you,
So they can start to make accommodations.

Where's Allen Now?

First thought best thought, the master said,
Cross-legged by a roaring fire.
Where's Allen now? Among the dead.

Spit out each thought that's in your head.
Beware the censor and the liar.
First thought best thought, the master said,

Wearing a body and looking well fed,
Touching the lute and plucking the lyre.
Where's Allen now? Among the dead.

He cuts a slice of thick brown bread,
Yet speaks of silencing desire.
First thought best thought, the master said,

Nodding to me to go ahead
Without the members of the choir.
Where's Allen now? Among the dead,

Where every thought must go unsaid.
It's time to say what I require.
First thought best thought, the master said.
Where's Allen now? Among the dead.