Author: Tetman Callis

“Sakuntala having worshipped the king according to proper form, told him, ‘This is thy son, O king ! Let him be installed as thy heir-apparent ! O king, this child, like unto a celestial, hath been begotten by thee upon me! Therefore, O best of men, fulfill now the promise thou gavest me! Call to mind, O thou of great good fortune, the agreement thou hadst made on the occasion of thy union with me in the asylum of Kanwa!’ The king, hearing these her words, and remembering everything, said, ‘I do not remember anything. Who art thou, O wicked woman in ascetic guise? I do not remember having any connection with thee in respect of Dharma, Kama and Arthas. Go or stay or do as thou pleasest!’ Thus addressed by him, the fair-coloured innocent one became abashed. Grief deprived her of consciousness and she stood for a time like a wooden post. Soon, however, her eyes became red like copper and her lips began to quiver. And the glances she now and then cast upon the king seemed to burn the latter. Her rising wrath, however, and the fire of her asceticism, she extinguished within herself by an extraordinary effort. Collecting her thoughts in a moment, her heart possessed with sorrow and rage, she thus addressed her lord in anger, looking at him, ‘Knowing everything, O monarch, how canst thou, like an inferior person, thus say that thou knowest it not? Thy heart is a witness to the truth or falsehood of this matter. Therefore, speak truly without degrading thyself! He who being one thing representeth himself as another thing to others, is like a thief and a robber of his own self. Of what sin is he not capable? Thou thinkest that thou alone hast knowledge of thy deed. But knowest thou not that the Ancient, Omniscient one (Narayana) liveth in thy heart ? He knoweth all thy sins, and thou sinnest in His presence! He that sins thinks that none observes him. But he is observed by the gods and by Him also who is in every heart. The Sun, the Moon, the Air, the Fire, the Earth, the Sky, Water, the heart, Yama, the day, the night, both twilights, and Dharma, all witness the acts of man! Yama, the son of Suryya, takes no account of the sins of him with whom Narayana the witness of all acts is gratified! But he with whom Narayana is not gratified is tortured for his sins by Yama! Him who degradeth himself by representing his self falsely, the gods never bless. Even his own soul blesseth him not. I am a wife devoted to my husband. I have come of my own accord, it is true. But do not, on that account, treat me with disrespect. I am thy wife and, therefore, deserve to be treated respectfully!” – The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vol. I, Sambhava Parva of the Adi Parva, trans. Pratap Chandra Roy

the bus stopthe bus stop

the bus stop is missing its benches and trash cans
scars remain on the sidewalks

women talking on cell phones
crossing against the lights
trot across the plastic faux-brick sidewalks

fat men in knit shirts lumber slowly along
their mouths hanging open

traffic slows to a stop

young women wear tight clothes
their buttons straining

we are the children of soldiers
our breath is labored
our sky is gray

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

curriculum vitaecurriculum vitae

my name’s the quarter-a-day habit
and i’m not much fun to live with

i don’t pick up after myself
do the dishes
empty the trash
clean the house
or put the clothes away

or make the bed
clean the toilet
wash the car
or rake the yard

it should go without saying
but in case it doesn’t
i don’t do windows

i’m a lazy little bitch
really bad with money
and a terrible waster of time
but i’m a great fuck

if you’re into my kind of fuck

which you will be if we do

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“Women should not live long in the houses of their paternal or maternal relations. Such residence is destructive of their reputation, their good conduct, their virtue.” – The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vol. I, Sambhava Parva of the Adi Parva, trans. Pratap Chandra Roy

the warthe war

everybody in the city is talking about the weather
the dusty sky
how the entire city smells of housecat
how no rain has rained in weeks and weeks
no rain to settle the dust
wash away the sprayings

everybody in the city is talking about the forests
how if it doesn’t rain soon the woods will surely burn

nobody in the city is talking about the war

(Published in 580 Split, Issue 12, 2010; copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

focusedfocused

some say it’s no fun being a junkie but
it does give one a certain raison d’etre
a reason for getting up in the morning
or the evening or the afternoon or whenever one
happens to be getting up in the middle of the night

the hours to be up and at ‘em
up and at the walls
scratching and pounding
up and at the doors
kicking them open
kicking them closed

up and at the windows
staring through a ghostly reflected face

up and at the telephone
calling the special friend
i’m sorry i woke you but please can i come over right now please

some say the nicest thing about being a junkie
is everything is crystal-clear
all superfluities sloughed off
all distractions burned away in the cold heat of need
it leaves a body terrifically focused

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“Remedies certainly exist for all curses, but no remedy can avail those cursed by their mother!” – The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vol. I, Astika Parva of the Adi Parva, trans. Pratap Chandra Roy

losing track at four or fivelosing track at four or five

it seems i spend all my
time working and cleaning house
when i’m not staring out the window at
the trees dancing on a thunderstorm wind while
taking a hit from what may be
my fourth or fifth joint of the day

it’s easy to lose track at four or five

i mean
it’s not the dancing trees that take the hit

that is
i’m sure i work
the trees are dancing
i’m taking hits
that’s a window
and there’s cleaning to be done

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

rushesrushes

i am having the most
incredible high right now

i know the validity
of any statement made
while the maker is in such a state
is suspect

but i’ve been getting some intense
rushes
off this little roachy remainder
of a joint of roach-doap—

oops—
doaped-on-a-roap

giggle me timbers
i’ll have another hit

(Published in High Street: Lawyers, Guns & Money in a Stoner’s New Mexico (2012, Outpost 19); copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“It is from great foolishness that persons blinded by love of wealth always desire to make a partition of their patrimony. After effecting a partition they fight with each other, deluded by wealth. Then again, enemies in the guise of friends cause estrangements between ignorant and selfish men after they become separated in wealth, and pointing out faults confirm their quarrels, so that the latter soon fall one by one. Absolute ruin very soon overtakes the separated.” – The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vol. I, Astika Parva of the Adi Parva, trans. Pratap Chandra Roy

walking by the candy storewalking by the candy store

i was walking by the candy store
when i tripped and stumbled over myself
fell into a sticky-bud bush

lay there for about a week, stuck

it was hard to get up when i had only one free hand
the other gripped by gripping a loaded roachclip

a delightful dark light
an accursed, cursing, curvaceous bitch
my sweet lover, the loaded roachclip

stuck to the bush, flat on my back
i suck on the loaded roachclip, my lollipop

(Published in High Street: Lawyers, Guns & Money in a Stoner’s New Mexico (2012, Outpost 19); copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

returning from damascusreturning from damascus

when paul the attorney sees me in the hallway,
he says, i’m looking for justice. i tell him
there’s been a misunderstanding, that we no longer
speak that language here, that justice has left
the building, saying she’s not coming back
until we come to our collective senses, drive
the money-changers from the temple, burn
the temple to the ground, grind the rubble to a fine
gray ash, sprinkle the ash on our heads
while we wail and mourn and rend our fashionable
clothing, fall on our faces and weep into the dirt,
and promise her we will learn to speak her
language again. paul smiles at me as if i’ve lost my mind.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“This Republic means something. It means something to me. I’ve buried a lot of soldiers, and my dad and mom fought in World War II, relatives that fought in a lot different wars. And this country means something, and Constitution means something. And it’s bigger than us, bigger than any one of us, and we’ve got to protect it. If we don’t protect it, then God help us down the road.” – Gen. Mark A. Milley, USA, November 17, 2021

pigeonspigeons

a tall and heavyset man feeds pigeons
in the asphalt parking lot across
the street from a church downtown. he’s old but
not decrepit. he sticks his thumb out at
a passing cyclist, as if to hitch
a ride. a few blocks away, an inmate
on the outs crosses a street against
the light. a waiting motorist guns his
engine. the motorist wears a white shirt
and a red necktie. a crystal given
him by an ex-girlfriend hangs from his
rear-view mirror. the inmate makes a
gesture, says, what’re you gonna do bitch,
run me over? the motorist instantly
knows several truths he’s never wanted
to know. he knows them several times
over. the cyclist cycles past him where
he sits in his car, still at the light.
horns honk. pigeons fly, well-fed. he hit one
with his car once, a long time ago.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

waking sitting upwaking sitting up

oh look
i rolled me a joint last night before i “fell asleep” here in my chair

how sweet of me to think of me like that

what a wonderful way to start my day

i am so nice to me sometimes
it makes me want to cry

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“Verily the highest virtue of man is sparing life of others.” – The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vol. I, Pauloma Parva of the Adi Parva, trans. Pratap Chandra Roy

thisthis

this a blank document an image
this as simple as a single color
this which stays in the eye behind the eye
this a girl on her back on a bed
this her father’s or her mother’s white-sheeted bed
this her eyes an unknown color
this her age perhaps seven summers
this she is not alone but all the same
this her mouth twisting open a cry
this crying pain and worse the light
this her head turned to one side
this her arms twisting to cover her eyes
this his legs and that portion of himself
this the cover your eyes so daddy can take
this the image of the trapped girl-child
this her eyes an unknown color
this they are closed tightly closed tightly

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

anger managementanger management

anger
management
anger
management
as i f*ck my hands harder than i have f*cked any woman in quite a long time
i am engaging in
anger
management
with the corners of my mouth turned down
my breath harsh-exhaled from between my stained and rotting teeth
spittle running down my chin and i stink
from the rancid lotion
from the unshowered underarms
from the sh*t-flecked anus
and i am forty-five years old and i am nothing

but i will not be nothing
i will not surrender
i will die and be reborn
i will kill myself and give myself life as only a god may do

watch this space

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“The path to the Truth always leads through deception and error. The disparity between error and Truth emerges from the very inner fabrication of the representation itself and not from some external condition or obstacle blocking access to the Truth.” – Lenart Kodre, “Psychoanalysis for anthropology: An introduction to Lacanian anthropology”

daisydaisy

daisy lives at the county jail
she wears faded blue coveralls with the name of the jail
in faded yellow stencil on the back
she sleeps on a mattress on the floor in the day room under
the television set with screwy colors and the sound
that’s broke and makes no sound

daisy wakes

the jailhouse guardman says
good morning, daisy
about time you woke up, sleeping beauty

daisy has short brown hair that frames her freckled face
her nose is thin and shiny
her green eyes have a distance in them
a receding depth leading inward to a place neither she
nor anyone else can reach

the jailhouse guardman tells me
medical’s been up here ten times this week for seizure calls on her
she fakes a lot of seizures
they figure only two of them were real

i wonder how they know

daisy smiles
stands up
looks around
says something to no one
sits down and covers her eyes with her hands

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

moist heatmoist heat

the
no-no
man
lives
inside
me
he
tries
to
get
out
through
my
mouth
he
whispers
his
no!
no!
out
through
my
mouth
he
hears
me
thinking
sees
what
i
see
feels
what
my
fingers
feel
i
bite
off
the
tips
of
my
fingers
biting
off
the
tips
one
by
one
to
swallow
one
by
one
my fingertips and choke unto silence the no-no man

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“In time of war men must choose one side or the other.” – Christopher Hill, The English Revolution 1640

the time of my lifethe time of my life

twenty-four hours a day
seven days a week
four weeks a month
every month of every year

year
after year
after year

pick a random moment
you will find me
staring out the window
coming down again

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

dammeddammed

as a paralegal, there are things i
cannot say. i must be circumspect,
deferential, polite. this is unfortunate.
these days, there is a shortage of truth-telling
in this world. my guess is there is no
shortage of truth itself; probably as
much of that as there has ever been.
a lot of it is dammed-up, though, high up
in the mountains, in cold, clear pools, limpid
if somewhat acrid—
oh, hell. pools of truth,
indeed. here’s a muddy puddle: as a
paralegal, i cannot safely tell
my boss the lawyer not to interrupt
me while i write a poem. he pays me
to pay attention (and answer telephones,
fetch the mail, and so forth). he also pays
my health insurance premiums, which are
steep. and he pays me not to tell the truth
without permission, if even then.

a fellow telephoned the office this
morning, asked to speak to my boss. that is
not possible, i told the fellow.
i told him i was the only one
available. the connection sounded
as though he were calling from outdoors.
i could hear street noise in the background;
loud voices. he quickly got to his point:
i want to know if i can sue a
restaurant for discrimination
because they wouldn’t serve me a glass
of water for free. succinct, my caller.

there were at least two possible answers
i could provide; one was better for him,
the other was better for me. the answer
better for him was, this is america,
you can sue whoever you like, just don’t
expect to win. and don’t be such a fool–
a restaurant is a business.
you want a free glass of water, go home
and ask your mama. the answer better
for me was the one i gave, or started
to: i’m sorry, but– he hung up right
after i’m sorry. and i am. i can
truthfully, politely, and with great
circumspection say that i am. it
was never my intention to earn
my living maintaining a dam.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“The morality that Puritanism preached was precisely the outlook needed for the accumulation of capital and expansion of capitalism. The emphasis was on thrift, sobriety, hard work in the station to which God had called a man; on unceasing labour in whatever calling, merchant or artisan, one happened to be, but with no extravagant enjoyment of the fruits of labour, and unceasing preoccupation with duty to the detriment of ‘worldly’ pleasure. The wealthy were to accumulate capital, the poor to labour at their tasks – as a divine duty and always under the ‘great Task-master’s’ eye. This belief inspired the bourgeoisie to remodel society in the divinely ordained fashion God’s ‘elect,’ and if that fashion bore a striking resemblance to the capitalist system, they were ever more fervently convinced that they were doing the work of God and that ultimate victory was both predestined and assured.” – Christopher Hill, The English Revolution 1640

cutting backcutting back

now that my son is gone i can cut back on a few things. no need
to keep all these lights on. i can turn the heat down, too, wrap
myself in blankets, i have extras from his bed. his comforter, i can
wrap myself in that. it smells of him, no need to launder it.

the television and the stereo, i can keep them turned off. no need
for music, that was all for him, anyway, for his education
and enlightenment. the television with its comedies and dramas,
that was just to help us take the pressure off.

no need for all of that. no need for eating out at restaurants,
for going to shows, or museums. no need for deep-fried chicken,
for fresh vegetables and fruits. i can eat canned goods now, cut
back that way, put on a sweater, turn out all these lights.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

the blessingthe blessing

Hast thou but one blessing, my father? bless me, even me also.
Genesis 27:38

you stand in a river of time that moves so slowly you think it stands still.
i stand downstream, nearer to the falls,
where i cling to a framework built from dead branches snatched from the stream,
lashed together with scraps of plastic fished from currents—
i can’t stand without it.

you stand with no such crutch—tall and beautiful you stand,
and i damn you for it, staking my claim against your life
before it has carried you down this river, to this place where i drag my paralyzed feet
behind my twisted body, thrashing with palsied hand at robber-flies in this place
where, by the time you arrive, i will be gone and to nothingness damned.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

“It behoveth thee not to grieve for that which must happen: for who can avert, by his wisdom, the decrees of fate? No one can leave the way marked out for him by Providence. Existence and non-existence, pleasure and pain all have Time for their root. Time createth all things and Time destroyeth all creatures. It is Time that burneth creatures and it is Time that extinguisheth the fire. All states, the good and the evil, in the three worlds, are caused by Time. Time cutteth short all things and createth them anew. Time alone is awake when all things are asleep: indeed, Time is incapable of being overcome. Time passeth over all things without being retarded. Knowing, as thou dost, that all things past and future and all that exist at the present moment, are the offspring of Time, it behoveth thee not to throw away thy reason.” – The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vol. I, Adi Parva, trans. Pratap Chandra Roy

human resources managementhuman resources management

i got laid off weeks ago and never
dreamed it would be this difficult to find
a new job. the lights are low and the house
is cold. an unfamiliar rumbling
is coming from my stomach.

my résumé lies on its sans-serif
surface. is this all there is? the question
in the faces of human resources
managers who read my thinly-written
claims to general expertise, shabby
as ostrich plumes eaten away by
avian lice, revealing the flabby
body of an inexpensive fan-dancer
with a cellulite problem, who prances
onstage amid catcalls and dreams.

who pretends not to notice. who takes an
overripe tomato smack in the forehead,
but never loses her poise or her shit-eating
grin, and almost never misses a step.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)

office memo poemoffice memo poem

boss,

here are the procedures for recording your voice onto your computer and copying the file to a compact disk.

1. make sure the mike is plugged in.
2. open system preferences.
3. open sound, which is in hardware.
4. open the input window.

and do something with it which i could figure out how to do except you just interrupted me to talk about the hundreds of hours of your home movies you want me to edit and then you want me to do your taxes because your wife used to do them but you haven’t got a wife anymore and hey boss neither do i but you said maybe you can get her to come in and train me

i’m sure she would be thrilled i know i would i have a weakness for other men’s ex-wives

and then there are the authority files you want me to scan

and now you are walking out the door to get a haircut telling me you’ll be in touch while i sit here pretending i’m working

which is what i usually do
and usually it works

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)