rest in peace Tucson poet Hassan Falak
HIM by Hassan Falak // from PANK, Issue 3
HIM annotated in my ancient files
HIM who brought forth teenage hallelujahs
HIM a sly snicker and Brooke Jensen Rainy Night in Georgia
HIM a big man in his soft heart and hard pants
HIM enshrouded in cinema mist of long ago
HIM a working man / rough hands / my boyish bottom
HIM a mad genius with tower piano in Boston
HIM a wiry spider with early dreadlocks
HIM an acid trip and grand experimental novel
HIM a jewel’d jesus prophet in my fever’d imagination
HIM his hands caressing piano bone, caressing me
HIM his hands absolving me and thrusting me to ballet
HIM duet / adagio :me his piano , he my terrible guru
HIM his face and teenage cockin paint by his own hand
HIM high yellow , and imported from White Plains
HIM already gallery ready / baby picasso in his jeans
HIM who might be straight and might be gay , and i would never know
HIM a pimp i met in urban wanderlust
HIM a cocaine king , a slimy trailer park
HIM a ruffled grouse . a fat demanding cock
HIM a methamp marathon , a flight of goingfast
HIM a porno parvenu
HIM a negro army boy down low
HIM and me , and drifting bedroom in Key West
HIM and me , pretend romantic on the docks where jugglers whirled
HIM so hot and me so horny and vice versa
HIM a whiff , a whisper and a never again
HIM agod i saw upon a stage in Cambridge
HIM a flashlit dream who flickered once and reappeared upon the Bay
HIM who wanted me as trophy danceboy bride
HIM whose Georgia hands and Georgia tears did drip across my thighs
HIM who Florida blonde and towering punk
HIM tatoo and passion for dark bird
HIM a running boyfriend and a curse
HIM a bedroom blazed , a spray of ether
HIM in prison soon , and fervid holy ghosting
HIM a cold night alchoholic splendor
HIM a sudden burst of some tremendous mountain fire
HIM forget this breath , forget this foreign feeling
HIM abandoned squat , abandoned sleeping spaces
HIM catburgler,eye of demon,twister
HIM a baseball bat : a childhood raping
HIM crackburgler / widow’s peak and scheming him
HIM the arbiter of what must never be
HIM the sage who set my eye free
Hassan Falak is presently beginning his second act,as a writer. His first act was as a dancer/choreographer. He lives in Tucson AZ with his companion of twenty-one years and two cats.
