The Couple from Tehran

In the Shah's Iran they had a living room
the size of her whole condo now
and he was standing there
near his office
by the windows
in nothing but blue, cut-off jeans
with yellow, sandy hair - a white guy
he'd of been about my age
standing there while she looked at him
from the kitchen - an Armenian girl
looking at him
swaying there, in the middle of
dozens of albums scattered on the floor
smiling there, in the middle of that rock and roll
deciding there, in that loud living room
which one to throw on next
and she swears to me now
that she can still smell the air from the Shah's Iran

Marlowe through Melville

I'll lean forward
moving in
next to all these spines
glossy and crisp
close enough
to smell the
soft chemical sting
of grease
and leaves
I'll cock my head
to catch a glimpse
Of every title,
axiom, and
bold summation
running sideways
due South

And in this church
of mine
in this isle
on these shelves
next to all my heroes
I'll feel something turn
in the pit of my stomach
an anxiety
that makes me think
I can do what they did
My spine can carry
the load
of all the truth
and all the
beautiful lies
I'd love to tell you
I'm dying to tell you