Lapstrake

by Ted Greenwald

Greenwald's first book, Lapstrake was also the first book published under Aram Saroyan's LINES imprint. Lapstrake was printed in an edition of 150 numbered copies with a cover illustration by Joe Brainard. Mimeographed, side-stapled, 8.5 x 11 inches.

14 pages, stapled mimeo

Published January 1, 1965

Reviews

[M.W.P.M. · Rating 3 out of 5]

DEDICATION:
to
a love an afternoon (one p.m.)
-- or the morningstar

DEDICATION:
to
L.T.

*

AND, HINGES

Fog hanged over the park, the night cold, and, clean
against the tree you leaned in the sunlight, breathing
he spinned the car out on fine gravel near the gate
she laughing at the tree standing straggly over the fence.

And, the drain clogs, when I shower, with my hair,
queasily, paper rolling out of your handbag, glinting sequins,
and, she stood, laughing over her shoulder by the spinning wheels
"how you do get to the station, from here?"

Skin smelling clean, after the shower, and, dark,
merrily, tempting me to talk to you, and, asking if you've seen,
and, turning to her friend, tall, and, skinny next to her,
"talking the first turning you come to in the book, and, curve

round it." Warm moisture rising, I rise sluggishly,
the latest news from Paris, tho I've never been there, calm
"he never could control the damn thing, and, thinks he's Fangio."
She knew better than to laugh, but she did anyway , laughing

hid behind a tree, and, light bark late, keeping the neighbours late,
and, you ask me "have you seen the latest news from Paris?"
Out back someone mugging laughter , and, he thought over the problem
to bust her gut. "Did you see that turning the horse made dog?"

Hours arranged handily on the wrist, I scrutinize them,
and, and tell you "I've never been there myself, have you?"
How to get back on the road, and, keeping his hands intact.
"Absolutely splendor, the light on shimmering her hand."

Hourly, and, after dinner they scrutinize me. "How we love,"
and, you answer, "yes, dozens of times." I look at my watch
"he's such a bore. Always running around fast over the place."
She knew better than to know know better than his local hands, placed

filling mail order slips, out, sleeping afterward in the down,
and, you shiver, and, laugh, "it's really terrible what's happening!"
how it sounds in reverse. Scared, and, the hairs turning prematurely
gray, respectably, over the nearest sand mound in the pile

pillow I puff up with my hand before the light goes out
"oh yes, I agree, would you care to join me for lunch,"
spun gravel rising under the wheels, and, him sitting. The clay lump
she picked up some too, running it thru her veiled fingers

in the fireplace. And, you say "you are thirsty," and, I believe,
and, you take my hand, handily switching your pursing lips
to the other side clinging higher under the screech, and, wheel.
And, she looked at him, blinking owily back tears. And, they

came anyway, you, and, "I am thirsty too, for more dinner wine"
"not having any money, but wanting to speak to you so much,"
"Who? Who? Does he think he is? Anyway?"
She knew there was nothing to do but curve out the light ground

under her, and several more candles to warm the room. To the other
side of your mouth. "That's okay, I love lunch in the park, anyhow."
His phantom figure stalking shadow after shadow after dark.
And, cry til a little pool formed, and, she rose to go home.

*

The march up country controlling your- of the plant after
I do in my active self. Based on Hoyle's system
dusk. That of mystery & exotic hair
the worm time followed with drums is yours
& peach advertisements aura surrounding The vicar was there
ensconced me if the bearing further into the pit
in a bowl of gut-space halted your candlestick of incense
 of the pit merry in decayed in the falling
in the room afternoon that was your pool on the rug.
mourn contemplatively But, wish! your English room in the country.
no matter between spaces before sunrise
crash take it what it is the scroll said. anyway you please.
KILL. . .fish imago. . .self to draw itself to a close
waiting for nightshade to close logically.

*

AIR & BEAU BRUMMEL

The black eyes ruffled the field
of expectant spirits smooth on ice
& arrowing cross the tongue & down
the throat. "Blow up your picture."

Clang. You make much noise
with your makeup. A little
less please, so I can pass the time
without bothering grandad in the corner.

Fill wanted, further than your murky
"dimples blushed when I lean-
ed over your ear. (breathing)"
"What is it you want?"

An integral part of the steam
filters out through your bonnet.
Your hands tie the ribbons
at your waist. Clang.

Five oranges round your eyes
to a peak of expectation.
You leaned back in ease, shining.
"The leather smells good."

*

FACE LIFTING

The wax is hard now. That is, it hardened
after I took it out of my ears. That is why I
am deaf. "Things cannot remain the same in order to change."
So said the soothsayer who I met on my way out of
Greenwood, Ohio. He had just held up the bank and he certainly
held my interest. He was a doll salesman on the side.

Before I tell you the whole story, and you split your side,
I must fix my teeth. They have hardened
and, no matter what time it is, they certainly 
hurt. The other afternoon I
saw Robin's cudgel. It was classy, made of
hickory wood. I must get one for myself. It would change

my whole way of living. That is, since my hearing returned, the change
might throw me int of state of shock. Perhaps paralyzing my side.
The doctors could then take a wax impression of
my heart. After it is hardened
I can put it under my pillow. Won't I
be surprised when I wake up! All melted! Certainly,

you will sustain your mirth. This is certainly
a sign of bad breeding. The change
won't go well with your new hairdo. This side
blue and black with wounds. I
tremble to think what the welts will look like when they're hardened.
Perhaps sassafras roots will relieve the pain. Of

course, we must be careful of
infection and gangrene for that will certainly
cause death and the result will be that I will have hardened
beyond recognition. You'll have to change
your whole way of looking at things. Your side
will harden and destroy your youthful looks. I

will leave you flat on the road. Never again will I
see you. That is the nature of
the changing side.
It will effect your good side, certainly, 
and the result will be chaotic, if not exotic. The change
will amaze all your friends. It they are sufficiently hardened

then your class will overcome their wooden faces. I, certainly,
since you'are my wife and spiritual advisor, detest the change
face. The roots in your side wither and die, waning hardened. 

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