William ‘Cody’ Maher is an expatriate American poet and performance artist living in Berlin. His most recent book of poems, The Return, was published in 2020.
THE DEBACLE OF OUR LIVES (Odessa circa '91-'92) Let us be clear about something I have been meaning to give this lecture now for years I know my lectures have not been what they were intended to be I mean to say my lectures have fallen on deaf ears They have been trampled upon by wild beasts They have been ignored They have been stolen They have been placed in the wrong institutions I have been invited in the past to give my lectures At some of the most prestigious . . . The most meaningless . . . What am I trying to say? No one And I mean to say NO ONE Would ever have conceived what actually took place It was in the city of Odessa Where are my assistants now To provide for me the name of the church? Once upon a time it would have been immediately clear When I spoke of a church without a roof over its head So that the heavens looked down upon it Rained down upon it And now of course If I spoke of a ruin of a church in Odessa I could be speaking of the future That will soon be past As my past will soon be over But let me continue with my lecture It was in the city of Odessa In the year of '91 Or was it '92 It makes little difference I was engaged to give a lecture On the subject of bringing humanity together Which I had no interest in doing In fact my only intention Was to keep other men's hands Off another man's wife Because she was in my hands now Yes, let us be honest These poets who express the great Important subjects of the day When they have not had their kill I mean, have not been the predator That they were born to be I have stilled the beast But let no conceit stand in the way Of my ignoble intentions In those halcyon days When Russia and its neighbor Stood on their hind legs And then laid on their backs Extended their reach For the cookie jar of the West And life took on another meaning Before my eyes When I took another man's wife Away from him But that is not the subject The subject is the lecture I gave At that ruin of a church In the heart of Odessa And this is important I am not making this up I arrived late The master of ceremonies Being the other man's wife She had me by the throat Or the neck of my balls I was a puppet in her hands I was a poor excuse for a human being And yet Days before I met Two henchman from the church Dressed in slick suits Who asked what we had proposed For an event Where two hundred Baltic Germans Would be present Why they would be present I have forgotten Oh yes, something about Humanity coming together I told them my performance Would be entitled "Worlds Apart" With the notion of how They could be brought together I had notes I read from They appeared suspicious And yet they agreed That I could do the performance I arrived late While the priest was Anointing the flock Which consisted of older men and women Standing huddled together I stood in the ramparts In the back Nervously pissing on the wall As the priest was finishing up Then I was introduced I had in my hands A globe of the earth A cheap plastic one Wrapped around it Was the soiled torn sheet I had been sleeping in In their wooden shack As I walked to the scattered stones That doubled as a stage The gathered crowd parted Like the Red Sea I noticed the two mafia types In the audience I began my performance Singing various national anthems Before reading blasphemous texts I saw the henchmen raise their hands That the performance or lecture Was now over And moments before I Was escorted from the stones To wherever bodies are dumped By the scruff of the neck I brazenly gathered the earth in The torn sheet And once again the crowd parted That stood in utter confusion Despite the translation From the mistress of ceremony Who laughed later in my face At the debacle Of our lives.
