Konch Magazine - Letter to my Father by Lisa Brimmers

Letter to my Father by Lisa Brimmers

dear mr. so & so:
                                    I hope to
survive your surname without

your surname. I strive to augment
your interpretation  of a "who

am I this time?"           story by 
introducing you to a tall tale

tell all of my own. I
remember the MC HAMMER

and Barbie Doll families
that made me possible.

I am the plastic on plastic 
lovechild  and may be  that

made me possible. You didn't 
make me possible. You didn't
                             make rent.             


Dear Mr. So & So,      
the rules you were

taught about                order.
Forget the way my mother

called you by your name.
How can I teach you

that anyone can bastardize
scripture and get away with it.

the dish ran away with the spoon.





Dear MR. SO & SO:
                              You forgot                                                            
the spoon.


Mr. So & So:
                         Please do

not be angry. I read Baldwin's 
The Fire Next Time and wanted

to talk to you about it. I read 
Baraka's The Dead Lecturer

and wanted to talk to you about it. 
I read until my eyes blurred

on Vladimir Mayakovsky's words
about his Mamma, until my eyes

stung as I read a few words 
about himself. I too

"am as lonely as a man 
on his way to the blind." Please

do not be angry.


Mr. So & So: 
                                    (In Blue)
Something about a Thelonious

Monk sound 'Round Midnight
and a piano.                 Something

about hands on a piano. Something 
slower about  hands on my mother.

Something slower about   hands
in an approach to may be

,writing in effigy of touch
and the fictile sense

of the pen in my
hand on the paper.

Dear Mr. So & So:      
                                    I'm eager
to hear about the weather, however,  

I wonder, how ever did you get into 
the business of                        (x?)

I've always wondered how I'm going 
to get through to you

without            a name.  Maybe I'll start in 
Chicago.  I've always wanted to

visit.  Maybe you can teach 
me about your business.  Maybe

I can teach you about your                 
(x?).  About you. What color is your

raincoat?  And, what color is your
briefcase? And how broad is your

nose? What color is your
lover?              (x?ox?o)














Johnson was empT

colorless, you were 
humming all d time through 
porchlight.                 this is 
a poem for        d CITY. fastr 
still, you 
              were humming 
d whole time.           d 
3A had gone 
and Johnson was empT

.at home 
/d windows are
shut and lockd in front 
/d door is 
OPEN/d back window 
,OPEN. nd this condition leads to 
a slow cigarette ceremony/
a slowr rmchair undr
standing (STATEMENT)
of d way these things work 

            .((d image
 nd PHRASE,d phrase
 nd IMAGE ))

                     d moment will
b easier remembrd this
way:yr humming d whole 
            fastr, unbLEAVE
me please.                    i 
read it as:
“yr fingrtips ovr 
,but only evr could pronounce 
it by another LOVrs
              .i read it as:
“now, shown low"

.you hovr ovr d scar,building w/d
trellis btween yr fingrs.(rmchair
nd 3A,3A nd image).there
must B an obviation here if 
nothing else

.a poem for D CITY is to 
b undrstood as poly
phonic sound nd striated 
light verse (us) d


how now then, shall we proceed

.when he was called alper
his voice was different and
broken also
softer. he was called

something different
, he was called by 
his name

            .angelo told him, alper, there was heaven
            .who told him that if everyone believed what
            they'dread he'd be inNEWYORKrightnow

.umberto     only reminded them of missouri
.umberto     always asked little and also wanted 
less and
wanted only birdseed

then, pith


.angelo never trusted alper, not 
for aminute. never trustedalper
,                       thought he might
leave so 
that was when angelo had called in the bigdogs
called           in                                   stanislaw
.who told him that 
alper would be called by
his name

and nothingelse


            .Isay, if there is only one catcall on thisstreetcorner
            let it be forumberto
            .Isay someone makes the decisions.



they are     sipping espressO
they are     sipping
theweather,theletter and

all seems melancholic



            .damn, alper, stanislaw heard thatshit...
            .damn, alper, you BEThedid

            you think "thatshit go on he don't know about"
            you so stoopid, you really think "thatshit..."



            damn, alper, he saw thatshit.



alper is crying 
alper is candleeyed
,wide. alper is inDIANA

thinkin' about esPRESSo

.diana thinks itsher,        INFACT


.Isay, these things don't operate
without undoing
the integrity of the 
,everybody                                 knowsthat
you really think "thatshit..."

.angelo never trusted him
not for aminute and 
when angelo chose to be a TALL man
his petite figure           turned
, circled.             when he chose 
to explain LOSS he would spell 
it c-a-t-h-a-r-t-i-c. (just to 
piss off stanislaw)

.stanislaw knew. you think that shit go on
that stanislaw don't know about?



they were in cleveland
then, visiting friends
.stanislaw had a 
tendency to           
his believers
 ,you could say it made himHOT
.they were in cleveland

then,stanislaw knew diana
well enough 
.they all knew diana well
enough.you think      that shit go on that
stansilaw don't know about?

they were in cleveland
then, and when alper entered
the cafe they all rose from
their seats-staggered,not allat
once.suspicion or silence
frogged in alper's throat. he couldn't
remember the darkgirl's name. 
stanislawspokefirst as they sat
again.he presumed alper had already 
met umberto since they had taken 
espresso twice.

                            he assumed he knew 
diana (ofcourseheknew diana).
he also assumed he knew who 
he was.at the very least knew 
what he was

to be called.

stanislaw spoke first as theysat



then, espressO inhand.

                     for you I will call
                        that one          umberto
                        and I will ask him if there
                        is a way for me to change 
this into something more
simple. if there is something 
I could ask him
to keep from a child.



            he asks you to touch his gums
            he asks you to touch his gums
            and never to quit,he asks you
to quit

only appropriately and only 
in time forappropriate
love. forappropriate
is hardly the thing anyone would 
love in these times. hardly anyone

but umberto 
could answer and finallybeckhislove

into being

.                   hardly anyone
but umberto had evr even said his