Martin H. Levinson
I have published nine books and numerous articles and poems in various publications. I am a member of the Authors Guild, National Book Critics Circle, and the book review editor for ETC: A Review of General Semantics. I am currently putting together a collection of my poems for publication that I have tentatively titled Signal Reactions. Besides writing, I like reading the mystery novels of Georges Simenon and taking leisurely walks in the woods. Please visit my website at martinlevinson.com.
Vive la France
I’m a cartoonist, a cop
and a wandering Jew
in a French Kosher Market
with Charlie Hebdo and
Jean Jacques Rousseau,
pushing a cart filled with
Gallic bon mots and
Opposite us is Denis
Diderot telling another
enough is enough,
you got to get tough
on those who play
rough to get what
Albert Camus says
they must be on meth
if they think we will bend,
think we will break.
Vive satire, Voltaire is
on fire, penning Candide,
an irreverent read, he was not
shot when he tried to mislead.
The Marquis de Sade
who is taking a soak
says can’t take a joke
that’s directed at you
or some other folk,
object with your mouth
not with a gun, we beat
back the Hun and
we’ll defeat you.
“Never give in. Never give in.
Never, never, never, never--
in nothing, great or small, large
or petty—never give in . . .”
I am Winston Churchill combating the
black dog of depression and
endless lines of cars, trucks,
and SUVs at five p.m. on the L.I.E.
I am Winston Churchill fighting the frustration
of being stuck for four hours in a dark subway
tunnel on a sweltering June day inside an E train
with no air conditioning and no lights.
I am Winston Churchill on the
frontlines at the DMV battling
bureaucratic bombast, bluster, and
badinage to renew my auto registration.
I am Winston Churchill hunkered down
at the doctor’s office, killing an afternoon,
trying to get a lousy signature on
a prescription refill.
I am Winston Churchill slogging through a
checkout line at C-Town five minutes before
my meter is due to run out with a
ten-minute walk to the car.
I am Winston Churchill at the Battle of the
Bathroom where my building’s co-op board
wants me to pay for damage to my apartment
caused by my neighbor’s leaky pipes.
I am Winston Churchill taking incoming from
my spouse who says she hates New York
and wants to move to the country which leaves
me vexed and perplexed but fortunately
I am Winston Churchill . . .
©2016 Martin H. Levinson