Charles Chaim Wax Poems

spilling into space where a billion light years
yearned for understanding
but not possible, the tender mind
too fragile to witness even ordinary death
...

One my students at Berriman Junior HS
dead now, no chance for her childish dreams
ever to unfold or fail
a drunk in a demon car
...

Larry Yeury waddled into the Teacher’s Center
unable to actually lift each foot from the floor
flopped into a chair
and launched into an immeasurable pumpernickel bagel.
...

As soon as I landed in the Teacher’s Center
I said, “Anthony, I heard stories.”
“What stories, Bernstein.”
“The Blue Babies, you’re giving ‘em away,
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Tom Maguire never felt at home
on the spot where he stood
until his final attempt at flight
huddled in a pool of blood without deliverance.
...

“Bernstein, I envy you, ”
said Moses Aaron Ginsberg
having gone from
a hundred eighty pounds
...

I descended into the pit with Caligula
while my hero the Dalai Lama
serenely watched men
sawn in half
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and Harry Feldman, two hours already
“Help is on the way, ” said Bob Bonaparte
assistant custodian at Spinoza HS.
Harry repeating for the third time, “Go help the poor
...

and I didn’t want it, to be close
afterwards unable to escape bad dreams
and the immense sadness of olives
as she stuffed them tightly into the plastic container
...

Matters went from
bad to worse
at Spinoza High School
turning the place into
...