Leaving 69
wrapped in khaki
alone & cold
waiting on the platform
for the train
to carry him
so far again
he cursed
the coming ball of light
in vain
the airhorn blew
& again he knew
he’d be Fort Lincoln bound
the hollow chill
& a weakening will
upon his tongue the taste
of a bitter goodbye
he thought
what men will do
to prove to you
they’re not afraid to die
but the bullet’s pain
is not the same
as the dull & empty wound
of goodbye
the piercing squeal
of steel on steel
he was Fort Lincoln bound
the train pulled away
his soul like Winter gray
as he thought of all the love
that cried for more
rumbling railroad town
he watched the fleeting town
his mind had come this way before
‘O airhorn blow
to let them know
I am Fort Lincoln bound’
but in silent prayer
he whispered there
‘God turn this train around!’
Exposition Of Meaning
Shoes
and socks;
Black
leather belt;
Discarded
ivory underwear
Man:
standing real.
Mine’s I
I know so many
in love
with
I.
most of my friends
are in love
with
I.
not a social thought
in their mind
just
I.
Just
I
me mine
myself
Christians
loving
I.
Jews
loving
I.
The I’s
have it
covering
their eyes.
The Oracle
Don’t go down to Ja-rooslim!
I heard de Oracle say
Don’t go down to Ja-rooslim!
Dey’s evil dere today!
No don’t go down
To de serpent’s town
Or dey gonna take you away!
Don’t go down to Dallas!
I heard de Oracle declare
Don’t go down to Dallas
Dey’s hatred in de air!
No don’t go down
To dat debbul’s town
Or dey gonna take you away!
Don’t go down to Memphis
I heard de Oracle warn
Don’t go down to Memphis
Dey’s a death mist on de morn!
No don’t go down
To dat hatin town
Or dey gonna take you away!
Stay away from Calla-fornya!
I heard de Oracle scream
Stay away from Calla-fornya
Dey bound to smash your dream!
No don’t go down
To dat dead man’s town
Or dey gonna take you away!
But dey turned deaf ears
To de Oracle’s fear
So dey came
And took dem away.
Wet Tender
Love is the fire
that we can never
keep burning
or
can never get started
in time
to save us all
from freezing to death
E.J. Hudak: ca. 1969
(Back To Kurt Philip Behm\'s Poetry)
Claims Still Unrhymed
Buried alive
the secrets we keep
Covered over
in memories deep
Waiting for miners
with claims still unrhymed
To assay what’s hidden
— there waiting to find
*****
The Beauty Of Nuance
When man controls
technology
decorum availed
But when
technology controls man
the classless prevail
When machines
do the thinking
with hard drives as boss
The beauty
of nuance
— and subtleness lost
*****
Schematics
Writing a
novel
Is like building
a house
You start with
a blueprint
That guides you
throughout
You raise it
with framing
Then wire
the lines
And coat it
with pigment
To forever
— define
(The New Room: June, 2026)