The Look of Genius

by David R. Cravens (October 2013)

an awkwardly tall Kentucky storeclerk

torn pants too short

mosquito-riddled shins

drills ragged troops in an old straw hat

several sizes too large

years later waits

in tattered size-fourteen slippers

looking out the window

at an unfinished Washington Monument

for a man

who

(pants tucked into muddy boots

and smoking a cigar)

rain drips off his old slouch hat

onto the guestbook

deskclerk looks up with an air of disgust

he takes the cigar from his mouth

the clerk

turns white and near swallows his tongue

in baggy Chaplinesque pants

uncombed hair

and dirty sweatshirt stained with tea

(and pipe-smoke)

steps a man from the shoulders of giants

on which to scribble equations

after telling a parable to guests

explaining time as a fourth dimension

he takes a sip of tea

his wife walks in to remind him to change

from his worn corduroys and open shirt

for delegates are on their way

from von Hindenburg

he nods absently and continues talking

if they want to see my clothes

wearing sandals

shawl

and homespun loincloth

strides half-naked

up the steps of Buckingham Palace

for tea with the Queen

he replies

and the captain of the Pilar

in a sweaty guayabera shirt

wipes engine grease and fish-blood

on dirty white shorts

sipping rum from a coconut

he trolls for marlin

and thinks of Carlos Gutierrez

alone in the same situation

then

for some reason he thinks of lions

for those who alter history

do it not with fashion

To comment on this poem, please click here.

here.