Raphael Rubinstein, "What happened"

Of course I would like to be

a poet of personal universalities,

noting, in chiseled language,

daily events, extravaganzas of nature

and the amazing revelations they bring,

Once I was such a poet

or at least was making appropriate gestures in that direction.



What happened?

Should I try to explain

in a 600-page memoir titled Some Time in New York City?

Or a lengthy autobiographical essay called “The Dangers of Derrida”?

Or a playlist that leads off with

the Sex Pistols, the Contortions and Gang of Four?

Or point to a line on my CV that reads

“Studied with Harry Mathews 1978-79”?



It’s 9:20 AM. Almost time to leave

this light-filled café at Varick and Franklin

and plunge back into artworld maneuvering.

Before I go

I’ll read one more page of Ammons’s A Coast of Trees