Words become secrets
when they're not heard
and there are many
you kick up as dust
lips don't move them
and ears don't enfold them
they rise and settle to rise again.
You haven't seen them
smeared in the sunlit air
or on your resting fingertips?
You haven't discovered
them left behind like accidents
or swept under conversations?
Well they may make fossils there
or rise again.
Mar 1, 2011
What the Son of God Dreamt
The hours at the waterside
at the bottom of mountains
the foot of trees
at the back of crowds
settle into gravity
bodies sinking with the self
they're meant to carry.
Instead of empty silk waiting
for a bloom to flame
our bodies are hoarder's trunks
slowly covered in and becoming
debris from the dreaming tide.
Mar 14, 2011
at the bottom of mountains
the foot of trees
at the back of crowds
settle into gravity
bodies sinking with the self
they're meant to carry.
Instead of empty silk waiting
for a bloom to flame
our bodies are hoarder's trunks
slowly covered in and becoming
debris from the dreaming tide.
Mar 14, 2011
Smell Empties and Does Not Refill
That room smelled of tatami
and of boiled water.
my body emptied onto
the floor nightly
but hands lost,
their undersides had not flown with me.
and they could have kept me in place
when place was a hollowed landscape.
Mar 13, 2011
and of boiled water.
my body emptied onto
the floor nightly
but hands lost,
their undersides had not flown with me.
and they could have kept me in place
when place was a hollowed landscape.
Mar 13, 2011
Recalling the Dark There
Under trees
along the line of a hill
the shadows of the wood, of me, of God
bleed
Mar 5, 11
along the line of a hill
the shadows of the wood, of me, of God
bleed
Mar 5, 11
In My Own Image
I have always been bad at drawing trees
I start with a limb, long and lean
If the pen is fine it will find the grain
the ink runs thin for the edge of the page
The leaves I leave off, but imagine there -
silken hundreds sifting the air.
And this is how I draw you
weakly, as if it's you who's barely there.
2, 13, 11
I start with a limb, long and lean
If the pen is fine it will find the grain
the ink runs thin for the edge of the page
The leaves I leave off, but imagine there -
silken hundreds sifting the air.
And this is how I draw you
weakly, as if it's you who's barely there.
2, 13, 11
A Thorn Child
Thank you I am not
instead of Take what I am
the seed of me lances
deeper into your skin
protected from the fall
from the path you've softened
for me
Blistered in you
I pretend communion
without being
anything but another
way for God to suffer.
Feb 27, 11
instead of Take what I am
the seed of me lances
deeper into your skin
protected from the fall
from the path you've softened
for me
Blistered in you
I pretend communion
without being
anything but another
way for God to suffer.
Feb 27, 11
The Weight of Only Daily Bread
The daily bread
you offer cold
I've taken over and over until
I barely taste it
Heavy with pride
I'm unable to lift
your body to mine
and your thin blood
would run my veins dry
There's little to be said between us
The host comes poor
"I have been eager."
The guest comes full
"I have not."
So that the little
that you offer cold
remains bread not life.
2, 27, 11
you offer cold
I've taken over and over until
I barely taste it
Heavy with pride
I'm unable to lift
your body to mine
and your thin blood
would run my veins dry
There's little to be said between us
The host comes poor
"I have been eager."
The guest comes full
"I have not."
So that the little
that you offer cold
remains bread not life.
2, 27, 11
Another Poem for Bachelard
The spaces that invade
that fill and receive
their fill
that warm and chill
fine lines mapped already
down our necks and arms
the spaces that remain
and become less than
walls, more than memory
whittled to a window
filled with lamplight
2, 22, 11
that fill and receive
their fill
that warm and chill
fine lines mapped already
down our necks and arms
the spaces that remain
and become less than
walls, more than memory
whittled to a window
filled with lamplight
2, 22, 11
Ohio Turnpike
Ohio turnpike,
coiling as if to slide
me down your seashell ear
as if to hear my
confessions in a cloister
and finally taking what you can
from my many padded pockets
lower me down your throat
to see what can be made
of me there
the acoustics of my emptier heart
against yours.
2, 21, 11
coiling as if to slide
me down your seashell ear
as if to hear my
confessions in a cloister
and finally taking what you can
from my many padded pockets
lower me down your throat
to see what can be made
of me there
the acoustics of my emptier heart
against yours.
2, 21, 11
Lamp Bones
I shall see your bones ahead
as they light your way into the dark
I shall find them warmer than the skin
I shall see your bones
as lamps in a window
And I shall find them
under the moths that curtain it
Our bodies have never been important
our eyes wander in their wordsoaked dreams
preferring blind walks
perfecting still thoughts.
2, 21, 11
as they light your way into the dark
I shall find them warmer than the skin
I shall see your bones
as lamps in a window
And I shall find them
under the moths that curtain it
Our bodies have never been important
our eyes wander in their wordsoaked dreams
preferring blind walks
perfecting still thoughts.
2, 21, 11
Reverie
Never falling asleep
only waking in an ever other room
or behind again another curtain
as the woods break into a field
and a door opens on a hallway
with the same fears
the same days in nightly translations
2, 21, 11
only waking in an ever other room
or behind again another curtain
as the woods break into a field
and a door opens on a hallway
with the same fears
the same days in nightly translations
2, 21, 11
The Ninety-Nine
On my first try
I crossed the temple steps like water
and never sank
and never wondered
where my hundredth step might fall
Now starting at the start again
I've counted the risers too carefully
and found the hundredth missing
and sank before I asked to start
and wondered if they were all false
How can I make it up the temple steps again
now I've lost the memory to walk?
2, 20, 11
I crossed the temple steps like water
and never sank
and never wondered
where my hundredth step might fall
Now starting at the start again
I've counted the risers too carefully
and found the hundredth missing
and sank before I asked to start
and wondered if they were all false
How can I make it up the temple steps again
now I've lost the memory to walk?
2, 20, 11
The One Coming
I'm the one coming with the empty cage
peddling what I have left
as I go
I'm the one, come time for spring,
will be a shadow down the out of town road
I'm the one who charades
love to you, lacking fluency in any language
I'm the one not lost on you
and kept there when I've lost all else
I'm the one coming for you
coming for me
And I'll be the one leaving after all
taking your happy sad birds along.
Feb 18, 11
peddling what I have left
as I go
I'm the one, come time for spring,
will be a shadow down the out of town road
I'm the one who charades
love to you, lacking fluency in any language
I'm the one not lost on you
and kept there when I've lost all else
I'm the one coming for you
coming for me
And I'll be the one leaving after all
taking your happy sad birds along.
Feb 18, 11
Birds Have Returned
Birds have returned
pulling early sunrise sleds
and our ears before we're ready
Calling and recalling
this is it, you barely have to wait
and at their suggestion
our skin is already prickling in the might-be air
We're already back to our summer songs
we can already feel the sand in our hair
and the dirt in our hands
and the places we've not yet been
they all come invading our cold-hearted indoors
as soon as the birds have returned.
Feb 17, 11
pulling early sunrise sleds
and our ears before we're ready
Calling and recalling
this is it, you barely have to wait
and at their suggestion
our skin is already prickling in the might-be air
We're already back to our summer songs
we can already feel the sand in our hair
and the dirt in our hands
and the places we've not yet been
they all come invading our cold-hearted indoors
as soon as the birds have returned.
Feb 17, 11
Dog Ears
I am not kind
pages curl in on themselves
until the brittle margins
finally turn on the written word
and whether it holds your name or not
and whether it is typed or handwritten
these lines and everything in between
will be ground and left
in useless relation to one another
if I were, I would not fold in on you so.
feb 14, 2011
pages curl in on themselves
until the brittle margins
finally turn on the written word
and whether it holds your name or not
and whether it is typed or handwritten
these lines and everything in between
will be ground and left
in useless relation to one another
if I were, I would not fold in on you so.
feb 14, 2011
Exchanging Breath
What are you smelling on my breath?
the trust I rely on, a daily prescription
the solitude water I pour over leaves
of love of friendship of darkness walks
the stalks I chewed just checking
if they were anything I could use?
you smell where my days have been
and what is now inside contributing
do you smell the empty space on my tongue
reserved for the taste I have not found?
feb 13, 2011
the trust I rely on, a daily prescription
the solitude water I pour over leaves
of love of friendship of darkness walks
the stalks I chewed just checking
if they were anything I could use?
you smell where my days have been
and what is now inside contributing
do you smell the empty space on my tongue
reserved for the taste I have not found?
feb 13, 2011
One Night Long Morning
The boy was crossing the road, just that
at the foot of the exhilaration hill
just in view of the sliding glass door
just between the private trees
on the motorbike just given him
just for being a boy
The man was not awake
he had been at trying too long
the night long
and the world ached in his cheekbones
he rubbed the length of them
thought of his wife
and missed the part where she woke up
she was always awake
And from there afterwards
nobody could look at the road
but found themselves locking the sliding glass door
found the trees growing closer until they closed
The man found that
the part where his wife woke in the morning
or not, it did not matter
because he could no longer bear
to be awake to watch
Feb 10, 2011
at the foot of the exhilaration hill
just in view of the sliding glass door
just between the private trees
on the motorbike just given him
just for being a boy
The man was not awake
he had been at trying too long
the night long
and the world ached in his cheekbones
he rubbed the length of them
thought of his wife
and missed the part where she woke up
she was always awake
And from there afterwards
nobody could look at the road
but found themselves locking the sliding glass door
found the trees growing closer until they closed
The man found that
the part where his wife woke in the morning
or not, it did not matter
because he could no longer bear
to be awake to watch
Feb 10, 2011
Resin
The resin of this heartbeat
a glos heavier than the heart itself
the time is kept in long distances
that collapse inward
and rather than preserving the youngwood
this heartbeat draws out saps thought dead
leaving the heart hollower
and too hallowed to be kept company.
feb 10, 2011
a glos heavier than the heart itself
the time is kept in long distances
that collapse inward
and rather than preserving the youngwood
this heartbeat draws out saps thought dead
leaving the heart hollower
and too hallowed to be kept company.
feb 10, 2011
How To Read
Now you ask of me honesty
and where do I find it? I learned
how to read before the others
and I learned later
how to tell the details back
of unreal people and their lives,
of me and mine.
where can I find it? But in your
eyes, I'm looking before the others
that's how I learned to read
there will be something there worth
telling back to you and won't you
take it for me and mine
the details I lifted?'
Feb 10, 2011
and where do I find it? I learned
how to read before the others
and I learned later
how to tell the details back
of unreal people and their lives,
of me and mine.
where can I find it? But in your
eyes, I'm looking before the others
that's how I learned to read
there will be something there worth
telling back to you and won't you
take it for me and mine
the details I lifted?'
Feb 10, 2011
Hair Washing Night
recently she has not
washed out the days
with one night but lets settle
what sifts through the light
a sieve unreliable, too coarse
to catch the secrets flocking by
her hair begins to smell of it
and soon her skin
until without knowing why
someone wants to know how she's been
and she is
gone from the land of answering.
feb 8, 2011
washed out the days
with one night but lets settle
what sifts through the light
a sieve unreliable, too coarse
to catch the secrets flocking by
her hair begins to smell of it
and soon her skin
until without knowing why
someone wants to know how she's been
and she is
gone from the land of answering.
feb 8, 2011
The Shape I Take
I've found it finally
what it is of you
that takes of me
the baby lines of my face
and leftover birthmarks
blur into shadow of furniture
And when I notice, You know I do
I am caught on corners
the angles that cut out a face from midair
where there was nothing to know before
Your hairline goes this way
while your shoulderblade that
a chin is falling toward me
but the heel is turning back.
And why fall upon me,
holding up but
also giving up
the strength you've come for?
feb 8, 2011
what it is of you
that takes of me
the baby lines of my face
and leftover birthmarks
blur into shadow of furniture
And when I notice, You know I do
I am caught on corners
the angles that cut out a face from midair
where there was nothing to know before
Your hairline goes this way
while your shoulderblade that
a chin is falling toward me
but the heel is turning back.
And why fall upon me,
holding up but
also giving up
the strength you've come for?
feb 8, 2011
The Origins of Sight
An iris glowing sky
sprawls husked and separated
from its chaff the human eye
the center snuffed to ashes
In a field of atmosphere
our breath sends up its effort
but lifts us no where nearer
our origins of sight
feb 8, 2011
sprawls husked and separated
from its chaff the human eye
the center snuffed to ashes
In a field of atmosphere
our breath sends up its effort
but lifts us no where nearer
our origins of sight
feb 8, 2011
Jasmine Tea
The blue lotus flame is under the teapot
but the dawn is already steeping,
lighting its jasmine filaments
behind the penumbra of the earth
The water pours thickly,
slowly to the time of that dawn
holding its intentions back from the light.
Feb 1, 2011
but the dawn is already steeping,
lighting its jasmine filaments
behind the penumbra of the earth
The water pours thickly,
slowly to the time of that dawn
holding its intentions back from the light.
Feb 1, 2011
Before What's Coming
In the snow the train echo tunnels
or maybe it's what's coming
or maybe it's your inner ear
troubling you again.
In the leftover lamplight the whites
of dog eyes brighten wild
or maybe she smells what's coming
or maybe she's just a morning dog.
In the hours before what's coming
the neighbors catch themselves preparing
losing faith in their trundling trains
their city on its elevated track
sounds tragic in its tomorrow humming.
Feb 1, 2011
or maybe it's what's coming
or maybe it's your inner ear
troubling you again.
In the leftover lamplight the whites
of dog eyes brighten wild
or maybe she smells what's coming
or maybe she's just a morning dog.
In the hours before what's coming
the neighbors catch themselves preparing
losing faith in their trundling trains
their city on its elevated track
sounds tragic in its tomorrow humming.
Feb 1, 2011
i am
I need to lie down
prostrate the words and my ear
the ground the plane
I was measured and deemed upon
if your name can Be
now as always
withstanding modifiers
mine can match in
only response: I need to lie down
entirely spent
of effort, of claim
to the ground I bend
to the earth you lay
I ask and wait
this i am
this i am
jan 29, 2011
prostrate the words and my ear
the ground the plane
I was measured and deemed upon
if your name can Be
now as always
withstanding modifiers
mine can match in
only response: I need to lie down
entirely spent
of effort, of claim
to the ground I bend
to the earth you lay
I ask and wait
this i am
this i am
jan 29, 2011
Little Said
There's little to be said for winter
its winsome snow darkening away
as I long for it deeper,
its crowding in to share little
but taken breath taken signs of life,
its paring down to delicacies
hard cast ornament and hard won affections,
its difficult way of defining
only this only that
until there is only
this before me
all else apart,
My water in color dreams don't hold
fast in the ear
of this reticent rock.
jan 29, 2011
its winsome snow darkening away
as I long for it deeper,
its crowding in to share little
but taken breath taken signs of life,
its paring down to delicacies
hard cast ornament and hard won affections,
its difficult way of defining
only this only that
until there is only
this before me
all else apart,
My water in color dreams don't hold
fast in the ear
of this reticent rock.
jan 29, 2011
Posture
Is it coincidence
that an eye socket should fit into a knee?
Who ever heard of a self-conscious eye socket
but the one fitted there now
feels startled in its self shape.
It couldn't, never would, have known
itself as an indentation
without the supplemental bone,
the convex knee, to match it.
My eye socket should like to know more
it will go about fitting itself
to other protrusions to see.
jan 27, 2011
that an eye socket should fit into a knee?
Who ever heard of a self-conscious eye socket
but the one fitted there now
feels startled in its self shape.
It couldn't, never would, have known
itself as an indentation
without the supplemental bone,
the convex knee, to match it.
My eye socket should like to know more
it will go about fitting itself
to other protrusions to see.
jan 27, 2011
The Subtle Work of Eyebrows
There's hardly anything prettier than wet eyebrows
They do all the subtle work of a mouth
The curl of an L
The lift of two oo's
the land of the k
The two hover over At
and nestle under Me
Until the mouth
is a noise we no longer need.
jan 27, 2011
They do all the subtle work of a mouth
The curl of an L
The lift of two oo's
the land of the k
The two hover over At
and nestle under Me
Until the mouth
is a noise we no longer need.
jan 27, 2011
People's Ages
It is important to know people's ages
How else will I know when I will inherit your eyes
With the creases that frame
but don't cage them
and show up other places
like your smile.
jan 27, 2011
How else will I know when I will inherit your eyes
With the creases that frame
but don't cage them
and show up other places
like your smile.
jan 27, 2011
My Own Volition
of my own volition
whispered whiskey in the kitchen
I drank it in
I breathed it out
but under one condition that
a tree caught in a kite
is still a form of life
and wrestling with
or resting in
it doesn't covet flight.
jan 27, 2011
No Mother Arms
We have no mother arms
even if we found them powerless
long ago, they were for pretending
and now
they're not and we cannot even imagine
side by side with plenty of space in between
our arms hold nothing
not wanting to disappoint in the end.
Is all our honesty just this
helpless distance
the inability to hold one another
with a power that may or may not be ours.
Jan 16, 2011
even if we found them powerless
long ago, they were for pretending
and now
they're not and we cannot even imagine
side by side with plenty of space in between
our arms hold nothing
not wanting to disappoint in the end.
Is all our honesty just this
helpless distance
the inability to hold one another
with a power that may or may not be ours.
Jan 16, 2011
Over and Over My Shoulder
Over and over my shoulder
your puns and all knowledge of the world
go over
over and over my head
Your looks and seems and all rules
I find only looking over
over and over my shoulder
The chills of breaks in faith
I find all over
over and over my arms
Let's let sentence silence and all say
go, it'll go
over and over our shoulders.
jan 6, 2011
your puns and all knowledge of the world
go over
over and over my head
Your looks and seems and all rules
I find only looking over
over and over my shoulder
The chills of breaks in faith
I find all over
over and over my arms
Let's let sentence silence and all say
go, it'll go
over and over our shoulders.
jan 6, 2011
Manners
The shingles the shutters
and the floorboards hover
the chimney rocks and mantle lumber
the coffee table and couches rub together darker
where our heads go
where our heads land
when they roll when they drop
they head there
to that house in all manners
it is a house of trying to be
and was when it didn't imagine it.
jan 6, 2011
and the floorboards hover
the chimney rocks and mantle lumber
the coffee table and couches rub together darker
where our heads go
where our heads land
when they roll when they drop
they head there
to that house in all manners
it is a house of trying to be
and was when it didn't imagine it.
jan 6, 2011
Mad One
Is everyone a mad one
repeating it to mutters
wringing and refolding lines
repeating it to millions
to you, yourself, you, yourself
yes, you, what you already know
reconsidering, remembering, reciting
"it's truer than that it's truer than this
listen to me, I'm your mother
I'm your you"
Is everyone used to this stutter?
jan 6, 2011
repeating it to mutters
wringing and refolding lines
repeating it to millions
to you, yourself, you, yourself
yes, you, what you already know
reconsidering, remembering, reciting
"it's truer than that it's truer than this
listen to me, I'm your mother
I'm your you"
Is everyone used to this stutter?
jan 6, 2011
My, my
My, you use big signs
you close big eyes
but then we're not
looking and my, how
you shift them
under (as if) under cover
from one of us on and on
but my, it's easy to see here
flashing whites flashing blacks
what are you looking at
gently, what do you see
shifting my way shifting back.
jan 6, 2011
you close big eyes
but then we're not
looking and my, how
you shift them
under (as if) under cover
from one of us on and on
but my, it's easy to see here
flashing whites flashing blacks
what are you looking at
gently, what do you see
shifting my way shifting back.
jan 6, 2011
Alto
the hawks
the eddy arrows of flocks
the south
the road south
an alto
just like an alto
pulling down a thin melody
and gives it back
buoying it up
from its own undertow.
Dec 23, 2010
the eddy arrows of flocks
the south
the road south
an alto
just like an alto
pulling down a thin melody
and gives it back
buoying it up
from its own undertow.
Dec 23, 2010
A Porch Light Lyric
We wait for the porch light to go off
in the breaks between songs
a cat crosses by
it's something
nothing's nothing.
We wait for the porch light
in the break between the songs
the sirens are still there
the airplane flights
still something
you know nothing.
We wait
in the breaks between songs
the wine goes very very slowly
the snow melts into our gloves
it's something.
Dec 14, 2010
in the breaks between songs
a cat crosses by
it's something
nothing's nothing.
We wait for the porch light
in the break between the songs
the sirens are still there
the airplane flights
still something
you know nothing.
We wait
in the breaks between songs
the wine goes very very slowly
the snow melts into our gloves
it's something.
Dec 14, 2010
Witness Log
The floes rush around
the log
scraped clean in the current
dark and soaked, thin and thinning ever
it holds its alignment
letting spring ignore
its sunken branches, now roots
witness, maybe the only one,
to the whimpers of winter
as she is pushed under
the good witch's return
all benevolence but no honesty
all good hope but forgetful
of what is still left to mourn.
Dec. 15, 2010
the log
scraped clean in the current
dark and soaked, thin and thinning ever
it holds its alignment
letting spring ignore
its sunken branches, now roots
witness, maybe the only one,
to the whimpers of winter
as she is pushed under
the good witch's return
all benevolence but no honesty
all good hope but forgetful
of what is still left to mourn.
Dec. 15, 2010
No Writing Days
How many letters
prick you as you
lick their mint?
How long is the list
of siphoned words
left trailing you
as you avoid your window?
Did the fire tree
listen in my stead?
Did the burning bush
answer only I AM?
Did it leave you
wondering,
needing "where?"
Dec, 15, 2010
prick you as you
lick their mint?
How long is the list
of siphoned words
left trailing you
as you avoid your window?
Did the fire tree
listen in my stead?
Did the burning bush
answer only I AM?
Did it leave you
wondering,
needing "where?"
Dec, 15, 2010
Lessons in Gravity
If the bed was off the floor -
as it hasn't been since we crowded in
bruising on the slopes of skin
and climbing hand over
hand out again
only sometimes never -
there I've been.
Now then, a trunk
rusty comes
full of baubles and myrrh
through the seams
an old name comes back to me
neglected darkened hung
with spider sacs.
I'll wax your riven edges
and fill your hollow
test the swing of your lock
my old name trunk
rest against you
rest you in
the thinner gravity of this new room.
Nov 3, 2010
as it hasn't been since we crowded in
bruising on the slopes of skin
and climbing hand over
hand out again
only sometimes never -
there I've been.
Now then, a trunk
rusty comes
full of baubles and myrrh
through the seams
an old name comes back to me
neglected darkened hung
with spider sacs.
I'll wax your riven edges
and fill your hollow
test the swing of your lock
my old name trunk
rest against you
rest you in
the thinner gravity of this new room.
Nov 3, 2010
Walking Into the Almost
Do you remember the first sound
of our boots on pavement
the sound like wanting and having
our dreams, all at once?
We awed
we drew in
listened to their sure ring.
Nov 28, 2010
of our boots on pavement
the sound like wanting and having
our dreams, all at once?
We awed
we drew in
listened to their sure ring.
Nov 28, 2010
Before the Mountain
There was never a mountain
here before.
This plain, These people
came to see the horizon knife
to see the flatware of grass and water
in still life, They
came here to see
to walk as far as they could see
And from here there
was everything to see,
before the mountain.
Dec 3, 2010
here before.
This plain, These people
came to see the horizon knife
to see the flatware of grass and water
in still life, They
came here to see
to walk as far as they could see
And from here there
was everything to see,
before the mountain.
Dec 3, 2010
The Ways and Means
First, you must learn
to breathe this medium
both empty and heavy
you imagine endangered glaciers.
After you have learned how to do that
the next thing is how to move,
blood and skin have their new relationship,
to be sure, your bones are still in place as before
they take up the slack in your hands
touching things, imbibing the world
that flies into your body.
Speaking of, you may have noticed,
or you may not have,
if you're not sure, check your pockets
you imagine crab apples
but more like squirrels, so this is natural,
You must learn to kiss your own fingers
before you ask much of them
of course they're still good for
vicing someone else's
you imagine you can still feel another.
The last thing you must learn is
love even when you only imagine everything.
Dec 3, 2010
to breathe this medium
both empty and heavy
you imagine endangered glaciers.
After you have learned how to do that
the next thing is how to move,
blood and skin have their new relationship,
to be sure, your bones are still in place as before
they take up the slack in your hands
touching things, imbibing the world
that flies into your body.
Speaking of, you may have noticed,
or you may not have,
if you're not sure, check your pockets
you imagine crab apples
but more like squirrels, so this is natural,
You must learn to kiss your own fingers
before you ask much of them
of course they're still good for
vicing someone else's
you imagine you can still feel another.
The last thing you must learn is
love even when you only imagine everything.
Dec 3, 2010
Convocation
It was hard to imagine a sun above those clouds
it was hard to want it
their covetous shoulders
bearing down on the lake
It was hard to keep from those colours
it was hard to keep from prying their secret names
It might have been motionless
but for persistent shred of white foam
disappearing just as it appeared,
might have been sinews stretching
then coiling, readying for the fray
sending off static as a warning
or invitation rite.
Dec 4, 2010
it was hard to want it
their covetous shoulders
bearing down on the lake
It was hard to keep from those colours
it was hard to keep from prying their secret names
It might have been motionless
but for persistent shred of white foam
disappearing just as it appeared,
might have been sinews stretching
then coiling, readying for the fray
sending off static as a warning
or invitation rite.
Dec 4, 2010
What Waits
Sometimes I wait to come home
giving you time to work
magic, to find a way
to give me my world
a perfect sea glass you've
spent time finding
A way to let me out of you.
Nov 30, 2010
giving you time to work
magic, to find a way
to give me my world
a perfect sea glass you've
spent time finding
A way to let me out of you.
Nov 30, 2010
The Last Rain For a While
Sometimes you have to
light a flame against the rain
to regain the senses
to remember you had them
punctured through with atmosphere
you remember the mystery of stars
and glassy limbs
how they connect over the
distance so far it has turned into years.
You had become enamoured
of planes overhead and
a little taken by metallic reflections
it takes a minute to remember
the park so nearby with its clover
you don't mind finding that your city boots
don't hold out its soak
you had forgotten the eternity of your dog
in putting out all the small fires
but with her here there's no urgency of immortality
for a minute your city ears
will strain in the silence
until slowly you can hear her breath again.
If you can, you must,
light that flame sometimes.
nov 28
light a flame against the rain
to regain the senses
to remember you had them
punctured through with atmosphere
you remember the mystery of stars
and glassy limbs
how they connect over the
distance so far it has turned into years.
You had become enamoured
of planes overhead and
a little taken by metallic reflections
it takes a minute to remember
the park so nearby with its clover
you don't mind finding that your city boots
don't hold out its soak
but walking through it you remember
there's a pulse below and slower
than as fast as your shins can standyou had forgotten the eternity of your dog
in putting out all the small fires
but with her here there's no urgency of immortality
for a minute your city ears
will strain in the silence
until slowly you can hear her breath again.
If you can, you must,
light that flame sometimes.
nov 28
Spider Veins
Sky, you hurtful friend,
do you mind your spider veins?
The bruises you put about my mouth
match them perfectly
all faded navy
and darkening.
nov 28, 2010
do you mind your spider veins?
The bruises you put about my mouth
match them perfectly
all faded navy
and darkening.
nov 28, 2010
Paper
Tan little girls on summer shores
and in summer fields
named her paper
And now her paper fingers slide
down her own paper calves
noticing they've since
hardened inward until their colour
suggests marble, suggests the layers of weight
that add up to this particular translucence.
She keeps them away
from summer girls
for shame or for sanctuary
she's not sure.
Now only her hands notice
how startling a sculpture they've become.
nov 28, 2010
and in summer fields
named her paper
And now her paper fingers slide
down her own paper calves
noticing they've since
hardened inward until their colour
suggests marble, suggests the layers of weight
that add up to this particular translucence.
She keeps them away
from summer girls
for shame or for sanctuary
she's not sure.
Now only her hands notice
how startling a sculpture they've become.
nov 28, 2010
4 p.m. in the Bookstore
The books and bricks of once-treasures
seal the window view
glowing themselves like a coming fire
trying to look inviting, desperate little consolations.
I hear a dog's dreaming breath
I hear the fine tearing that could only mean wet pavement
I hear a huff and sigh - a city still trying to please
I hear the hairline clicks of shifting joints newly aged
Until even the four p.m. gloom
is blinding.
Nov 28, 2010
seal the window view
glowing themselves like a coming fire
trying to look inviting, desperate little consolations.
I hear a dog's dreaming breath
I hear the fine tearing that could only mean wet pavement
I hear a huff and sigh - a city still trying to please
I hear the hairline clicks of shifting joints newly aged
Until even the four p.m. gloom
is blinding.
Nov 28, 2010
A Long-Dead Tree
Why is it that the beautiful one
was the long-dead tree
overseeing the grasses?
Was it because we trespassed there
feeling only that even the moon was ours
and so the path towards it also belonged
to us?
Was it because we longed for height
for much too long, only parting through fields?
And there it remained as if it always would
as if being black and cored
were as natural as eternity
as if standing, after all this time,
was not something to be longed for but to take for granted.
We stopped our ragged breathing
to watch it and the moon
to see which one was tangled in the other
then kept at marching high and deep
our new desire the shape of a long-dead tree.
nov 28, 2010
was the long-dead tree
overseeing the grasses?
Was it because we trespassed there
feeling only that even the moon was ours
and so the path towards it also belonged
to us?
Was it because we longed for height
for much too long, only parting through fields?
And there it remained as if it always would
as if being black and cored
were as natural as eternity
as if standing, after all this time,
was not something to be longed for but to take for granted.
We stopped our ragged breathing
to watch it and the moon
to see which one was tangled in the other
then kept at marching high and deep
our new desire the shape of a long-dead tree.
nov 28, 2010
The Supine Snow
the first snow
is a scent only
a waiting scent
a not yet scent
that something weighs heavy
overhead
and underfoot we
harden to support it,
not fooled by the first snow's
exaggerated list .
Nov 28, 2010
is a scent only
a waiting scent
a not yet scent
that something weighs heavy
overhead
and underfoot we
harden to support it,
not fooled by the first snow's
exaggerated list .
Nov 28, 2010
Where Crying Makes Sense
There is a country where
crying sounds
are all cymbal and fire cracker
no crescendo just
sound until it's not sound
and not air just --
Those sounds that drive madness
drive the mind
out of possession
with marching and matches
hands breaking themselves into
the sound they need to make
for crying to make sense
for nothing to make sense.
Oct 30, 2010
crying sounds
are all cymbal and fire cracker
no crescendo just
sound until it's not sound
and not air just --
Those sounds that drive madness
drive the mind
out of possession
with marching and matches
hands breaking themselves into
the sound they need to make
for crying to make sense
for nothing to make sense.
Oct 30, 2010
The Long Afternoon
The girl will stay small
To get bigger would be
To grow out of love
To break the seams of
The home she’s been able to console
Herself with knowing
It’s not but where else
Don’t you remember the truth
Of playing orphans or boxcar children
In the trees out of sight of the house
Don’t you remember how it thrilled
To be so close to discovering if not this
Then what was true
It was just a play just an afternoon we’d
Continue next time you came
One continuous afternoon
Dealing with the disappointments of indoors
The betrayal of evenings
That moved around us like family but
We couldn’t seem to touch
The weather was never bad enough to stop
Us playing our games to find out
What was what.
oct 30, 2010
Northmoss
Ever lost in the woods
ever washed of self
assurance, path, northmoss
the hour grows -
but still there,
under the unpatterned
shadow spindles
the drunken doily of
undergrowth and overture -
No one's there, recalling
but you seem to know
what is needed
your feet, the bending bones
the arch of them
under over (over) under -
It's not an original response
you're possessed,
you're weaving
under over (over) under.
And the lichen smells like food
the rocks like drink
you're lost, and ever lost
clean washed of yourself.
Oct 6, 2010
ever washed of self
assurance, path, northmoss
the hour grows -
but still there,
under the unpatterned
shadow spindles
the drunken doily of
undergrowth and overture -
No one's there, recalling
but you seem to know
what is needed
your feet, the bending bones
the arch of them
under over (over) under -
It's not an original response
you're possessed,
you're weaving
under over (over) under.
And the lichen smells like food
the rocks like drink
you're lost, and ever lost
clean washed of yourself.
Oct 6, 2010
Stealer Friend
She had an idea
after I had tried to steal all the electricity
but it flickered between my hands
after she had tried to escape
but found the horizontal waters
might as well be a gate
so she had a point
when she said I should steal the Pacific
fold it neatly
just a freshly washed tablecloth
to rest our elbows on.
Sept 24, 2010
after I had tried to steal all the electricity
but it flickered between my hands
after she had tried to escape
but found the horizontal waters
might as well be a gate
so she had a point
when she said I should steal the Pacific
fold it neatly
just a freshly washed tablecloth
to rest our elbows on.
Sept 24, 2010
A Life Shed
A life drops its pretensions
its mourners come closer
less and less sure
what their days were about before
gradually gaining on one another
gradually sure that here at least
is a place to be
between one another.
sept, 24, 2010
its mourners come closer
less and less sure
what their days were about before
gradually gaining on one another
gradually sure that here at least
is a place to be
between one another.
sept, 24, 2010
The Oxfords
scuff the seams of the soles
the threads heavy loosen
the weave of hatch scuff relax
scuff a wrist across its mouth
to dry scuff as the pavement
the arch scuff the wings scuff the tongue
scuff the laces
the world scuff apart around them
they match scuff together on their way.
sept 15, 2010
the threads heavy loosen
the weave of hatch scuff relax
scuff a wrist across its mouth
to dry scuff as the pavement
the arch scuff the wings scuff the tongue
scuff the laces
the world scuff apart around them
they match scuff together on their way.
sept 15, 2010
Slide After Slide
The world becomes a picture
not yet dry, sticking against its frame
the singe of street lamps in a sunset skin
their early flare, warming through still summer canopies
they contract, more distinct, now leaves
singular and sifting against others
in the sudden early night
or at least a dimmer slide of light
the projector clacks
the late and long transparencies pass
and here the world is drying
in new textures.
sept 15, 2010
not yet dry, sticking against its frame
the singe of street lamps in a sunset skin
their early flare, warming through still summer canopies
they contract, more distinct, now leaves
singular and sifting against others
in the sudden early night
or at least a dimmer slide of light
the projector clacks
the late and long transparencies pass
and here the world is drying
in new textures.
sept 15, 2010
Time to Lie
you don't have time to clear your throat
by the time we meet eyes
we have lied
then of course the next thing
is to assault and batter
your mouth with mine
my nouns threaten and verbs fist up
all we can do
there's just enough time
to drop our faces in hands and hands in our laps
to silently meet all blind
and inchoate.
Sept 15, 2010
by the time we meet eyes
we have lied
then of course the next thing
is to assault and batter
your mouth with mine
my nouns threaten and verbs fist up
all we can do
there's just enough time
to drop our faces in hands and hands in our laps
to silently meet all blind
and inchoate.
Sept 15, 2010
Pinning
If I could see the stars -
but look at these clouds.
When you ask for the answer
a pin through the wing
scatters meaning
tears what you have
and eventually even that
dust dries without its colours.
sept 7, 2010
but look at these clouds.
When you ask for the answer
a pin through the wing
scatters meaning
tears what you have
and eventually even that
dust dries without its colours.
sept 7, 2010
From the Shades
With the sun in my eyes
I stare into the shades
hard, because from there is where
the next thing comes
alongside me races
the long-haired boys
different textiles
of the same dream
the boys that saunter
towards me ever
with things, something
to say, but
I don't want to hear.
Stay in the shades.
I'll stare from here
with the sun in my eyes.
Sept 7, 2010
I stare into the shades
hard, because from there is where
the next thing comes
alongside me races
the long-haired boys
different textiles
of the same dream
the boys that saunter
towards me ever
with things, something
to say, but
I don't want to hear.
Stay in the shades.
I'll stare from here
with the sun in my eyes.
Sept 7, 2010
English as a Second Language
Language is re-entering
a return from lurking along
leads that it was not wholly lucid of
it learned a lot.
all alone
it understood that it is its own rule
complete with goals and shoulds
but that did not equal any thing
but only one thing
that it includes its own limits
that it was liminal
limited infinite
and only then did it return to me.
sept 15, 2010
a return from lurking along
leads that it was not wholly lucid of
it learned a lot.
all alone
it understood that it is its own rule
complete with goals and shoulds
but that did not equal any thing
but only one thing
that it includes its own limits
that it was liminal
limited infinite
and only then did it return to me.
sept 15, 2010
To Fall For
The first thing to fall for is beauty
the second is imperfection, shy from the first
The third is restlessness
and the fourth its alliterative particular, reticence
there are more to fall
headlong into the crowded world for.
Sept 1, 10
the second is imperfection, shy from the first
The third is restlessness
and the fourth its alliterative particular, reticence
there are more to fall
headlong into the crowded world for.
Sept 1, 10
A Merge
language speaks us like water pulls at our lips
when the roar of the trees and
your muffled heart get confused
when the silk of a scarf and
you notice the silk of a forearm
didn't begin merging
but were
the same from the start
which is when?
sept 1, 10
The Mountain Pass
We dare again
the mountain pass
the smother of shut earth
shut stars
We smile crazy or going
into one another's wide eyes
We dare the pass
we either demand or beg
our way against the winter
we are not shocked
that the earth is killing us
There are dreams of the downward
the lick of a valley
dry and warm as a cat's tongue
We made it last year
we dare again.
sept 13, 2001
the mountain pass
the smother of shut earth
shut stars
We smile crazy or going
into one another's wide eyes
We dare the pass
we either demand or beg
our way against the winter
we are not shocked
that the earth is killing us
There are dreams of the downward
the lick of a valley
dry and warm as a cat's tongue
We made it last year
we dare again.
sept 13, 2001
Dishonesty
the words are already lies
but what they do
and you do
it can't be mistaken
take their little dishonesties
and summon their hauntings
and if they are
you must hear the whine
of such weight on so little construction.
sept13, 10
but what they do
and you do
it can't be mistaken
take their little dishonesties
and summon their hauntings
and if they are
you must hear the whine
of such weight on so little construction.
sept13, 10
An Agreement
If your bards are to be believed
the weight you wedge in my heart is your beat
the coming train dissolved in sound, your blood
the lake, its insisting breakers, your birth
and the mattressed graves of enemies and friends, your bed.
You may only break my heart
if then the bards will sing me with you,
dying but acting natural.
Aug 10, 2010
the weight you wedge in my heart is your beat
the coming train dissolved in sound, your blood
the lake, its insisting breakers, your birth
and the mattressed graves of enemies and friends, your bed.
You may only break my heart
if then the bards will sing me with you,
dying but acting natural.
Aug 10, 2010
A November Spring
We were foreigners
you could tell
our bodies much too eager
and our whoops much too soon
for the season.
The others, the citizens,
snuggled into the sand
as if they'd been there all winter
and had only now been uncovered.
The water was too cold
it tried to tell us not yet
But we did not have time to wait
we'd be home soon, land locked
So we let our limbs lose blood
and let the waves toss them
as if this is how limbs naturally moved,
by a sudden treaty of coercion and concession.
We forgot that drowning was deadly
and could only think, this is how life is naturally ventured.
Aug 10, 2010
you could tell
our bodies much too eager
and our whoops much too soon
for the season.
The others, the citizens,
snuggled into the sand
as if they'd been there all winter
and had only now been uncovered.
The water was too cold
it tried to tell us not yet
But we did not have time to wait
we'd be home soon, land locked
So we let our limbs lose blood
and let the waves toss them
as if this is how limbs naturally moved,
by a sudden treaty of coercion and concession.
We forgot that drowning was deadly
and could only think, this is how life is naturally ventured.
Aug 10, 2010
Trying to Mean. Trying to Skate.
I can't tell you about the skateboard
about the childhood
I tried but. It came out as
a lie. a try.
"Please stop trying
to say more than you mean."
I tell my mouth.
But you are listening
I'm not sure if you hear silence
as I do. truth. truth. truth.
Intimately.
I'd like this not to take long.
so long. There are things
I want to know. to share.
But they won't last forever
they will grow up and fly.
Their magic left in my heart only.
Aug 6, 2010
about the childhood
I tried but. It came out as
a lie. a try.
"Please stop trying
to say more than you mean."
I tell my mouth.
But you are listening
I'm not sure if you hear silence
as I do. truth. truth. truth.
Intimately.
I'd like this not to take long.
so long. There are things
I want to know. to share.
But they won't last forever
they will grow up and fly.
Their magic left in my heart only.
Aug 6, 2010
The New Mao
Today, Mao was driving a car,
an American or maybe even Japanese,
but he wasn't who he was
he wasn't anybody
special or terrible.
He lived here. In the nice,
if old, apartments with garages.
He wasn't any more
harmful than other old men
who are only going to die
or who pull a car out of the garage.
He was no longer
special.
And those students. Those
young ones. They never heard
of him.
They never asked him for their lives
and the freedom it takes to live.
They never knew him.
But they didn't know
what's worth living until the last minute for
either.
Maybe that's not important when
they've got plenty to live long for.
But in that old past,
they lived so well, if shortly.
Aug 10, 2010
an American or maybe even Japanese,
but he wasn't who he was
he wasn't anybody
special or terrible.
He lived here. In the nice,
if old, apartments with garages.
He wasn't any more
harmful than other old men
who are only going to die
or who pull a car out of the garage.
He was no longer
special.
And those students. Those
young ones. They never heard
of him.
They never asked him for their lives
and the freedom it takes to live.
They never knew him.
But they didn't know
what's worth living until the last minute for
either.
Maybe that's not important when
they've got plenty to live long for.
But in that old past,
they lived so well, if shortly.
Aug 10, 2010
Woman
Of course he makes you feel like a woman,
but when you wake in the morning
there's something more you'd like to feel,
like a mindless animal meditating on a dirt path
like a car window empty and open for wind
like a slab of sunlight leaning on a brick wall in an alley.
These things are worth feeling like, too.
Aug 14, 2010
but when you wake in the morning
there's something more you'd like to feel,
like a mindless animal meditating on a dirt path
like a car window empty and open for wind
like a slab of sunlight leaning on a brick wall in an alley.
These things are worth feeling like, too.
Aug 14, 2010
A Fore-casted Storm
I am waiting for a thunderstorm
fore-casted for twelve a.m.,
but now not until one.
It will last until sunrise,
only then amounting to drizzle
thin enough for the day's colour
to cast itself against our heads.
And what am I expecting?
To pray easier than I do in the daylight
where there's no resistance to casting lines
as if in a clear pool where you can
see your catch at all times?
Is there something in the dark and rain
the thunder crumble
lightning rent?
Is there something in the terror and attraction?
The magnet of losing my mustard seed
in the luster of a storm?
Aug 2, 2010
fore-casted for twelve a.m.,
but now not until one.
It will last until sunrise,
only then amounting to drizzle
thin enough for the day's colour
to cast itself against our heads.
And what am I expecting?
To pray easier than I do in the daylight
where there's no resistance to casting lines
as if in a clear pool where you can
see your catch at all times?
Is there something in the dark and rain
the thunder crumble
lightning rent?
Is there something in the terror and attraction?
The magnet of losing my mustard seed
in the luster of a storm?
Aug 2, 2010
Passers-by
The good-smelling men
an the good-smelling girls go by
wiping out the over-ripe alleys
leaving them behind,
and behind them
thoughts of other good-smelling men
and good-smelling girls
who wiped out your over-ripe confidence
when they lingered instead of passing by.
July 31, 2010
an the good-smelling girls go by
wiping out the over-ripe alleys
leaving them behind,
and behind them
thoughts of other good-smelling men
and good-smelling girls
who wiped out your over-ripe confidence
when they lingered instead of passing by.
July 31, 2010
I'd Like To Carry On Without You
City, you are always
hiding the dark of the sky from me.
I'd like to carry on without your lights.
You require a bag on my shoulders
to keep me moving, moveable.
I'd like to carry on bare, without it.
City, you put yourself into syllables
I'm supposed to fill in the crosswords
with words I don't recognize.
I'd rather not read another sentence
I'd like to carry on without you.
City, you say stand up
give me your perpendicular feet
they ache, register nothing
I'd like to carry on without them.
Back to the clover eyes only up
and not sweeping their corners
for what I wouldn't expect.
July 30, 2010
hiding the dark of the sky from me.
I'd like to carry on without your lights.
You require a bag on my shoulders
to keep me moving, moveable.
I'd like to carry on bare, without it.
City, you put yourself into syllables
I'm supposed to fill in the crosswords
with words I don't recognize.
I'd rather not read another sentence
I'd like to carry on without you.
City, you say stand up
give me your perpendicular feet
they ache, register nothing
I'd like to carry on without them.
Back to the clover eyes only up
and not sweeping their corners
for what I wouldn't expect.
July 30, 2010
The Usual and Occasional Airplane
The usual airplane
slides straight towards the east
straight over head in two dimensions
On occasion, I don't know the specifics,
one turns
its pilot leans into the angle
its passengers lean into their windows
stunned that the earth is still
there below, as all along.
The people looking up
find their breath leaving
with a new intention
to never return.
July 30, 2010
slides straight towards the east
straight over head in two dimensions
On occasion, I don't know the specifics,
one turns
its pilot leans into the angle
its passengers lean into their windows
stunned that the earth is still
there below, as all along.
The people looking up
find their breath leaving
with a new intention
to never return.
July 30, 2010
Glow-White and Tan
A woman of little luxuries
tiny burns scar up into shiny designs
A little casket of minced herbs
forgets her nightmares or
how it's been
since she remembered one.
A baby penknife and a runny pen
make skin into deep, fleshed over reminders
Woman of little creativities
adding curly suffixes to curses
adding children's jewelry to her her collarbone
at once specked glow-white and tan.
June 22, 2010
tiny burns scar up into shiny designs
A little casket of minced herbs
forgets her nightmares or
how it's been
since she remembered one.
A baby penknife and a runny pen
make skin into deep, fleshed over reminders
Woman of little creativities
adding curly suffixes to curses
adding children's jewelry to her her collarbone
at once specked glow-white and tan.
June 22, 2010
For the Time Being
For the time when
the tongue is sewn
tight by some mad surgeon
for when
the fingers break
instead of bend in response
for when
the beauty or goodness
or truth in heart
tries to sound dishonest,
decayed, or not at all
in the hearts it approaches.
For the time being
I will not regret
these shames,
but add their intentions
to the time
when the image of God
succeeds in itself.
july 30, 2010
the tongue is sewn
tight by some mad surgeon
for when
the fingers break
instead of bend in response
for when
the beauty or goodness
or truth in heart
tries to sound dishonest,
decayed, or not at all
in the hearts it approaches.
For the time being
I will not regret
these shames,
but add their intentions
to the time
when the image of God
succeeds in itself.
july 30, 2010
Up Under the Eaves
Up under the eaves
time re-convenes
from the corners
it has explored
in high disguise
as minutes and hours.
Lately they hum
in passing.
But here in the attic
the windows and walls
thicken with now
muscles softer
than plaster, but firm
hold up the night
breathing evenly, counting
in cicada tides.
july 23, 2010
time re-convenes
from the corners
it has explored
in high disguise
as minutes and hours.
Lately they hum
in passing.
But here in the attic
the windows and walls
thicken with now
muscles softer
than plaster, but firm
hold up the night
breathing evenly, counting
in cicada tides.
july 23, 2010
Out in the Rain
It doesn't rain often
we should get caught
the net of colour and light
presses Doing to the ground
there it scrapes
in the gravel for what we Are.
July 20, 2010
we should get caught
the net of colour and light
presses Doing to the ground
there it scrapes
in the gravel for what we Are.
July 20, 2010
Shaky
Shaky from crossing so many bridges
and never leaping,
from wearing so many days in shoes
and never forgetting
them in the grass somewhere in a shadow.
Shaky from love never said, not knowing
where I begin and anything,
anyone else ends.
Shaky from never asking
my sister why we're so honest but incoherent.
Shaky from that song that seemed
to climb up my legs pulling me,
wanting me to breathe underwater again.
Shaky from a pen that slides
past words and mis-spells it all
coding my love in nonsense.
Shaky from the reflection of birds below,
making me believe
a moment that I wasn't dreaming.
Shaky from the small weight
of my heart between my shoulders tumbling.
july 3, 2010
and never leaping,
from wearing so many days in shoes
and never forgetting
them in the grass somewhere in a shadow.
Shaky from love never said, not knowing
where I begin and anything,
anyone else ends.
Shaky from never asking
my sister why we're so honest but incoherent.
Shaky from that song that seemed
to climb up my legs pulling me,
wanting me to breathe underwater again.
Shaky from a pen that slides
past words and mis-spells it all
coding my love in nonsense.
Shaky from the reflection of birds below,
making me believe
a moment that I wasn't dreaming.
Shaky from the small weight
of my heart between my shoulders tumbling.
july 3, 2010
Dimensions
Time is gone
long since but
we love it so, we
count its leaves
its sheaves its
stacks bound
in twine, the old
fashioned detail
binds its weight
together. Much
too heavy for any
of us now
to pick up
and take with us.
july 15, 2010
long since but
we love it so, we
count its leaves
its sheaves its
stacks bound
in twine, the old
fashioned detail
binds its weight
together. Much
too heavy for any
of us now
to pick up
and take with us.
july 15, 2010
Walls and Flame
The city's got her
in its walls and flames
in the sound flood water makes
under the streets and through the grate
Whisper "let's meet"
in the turns of phrases
in the toppling willow shade
Hold the dare in our mouths
touching our own ribs
making a careful crease
making sure
there's room for one
in here next to me.
july 27, 2010
in its walls and flames
in the sound flood water makes
under the streets and through the grate
Whisper "let's meet"
in the turns of phrases
in the toppling willow shade
Hold the dare in our mouths
touching our own ribs
making a careful crease
making sure
there's room for one
in here next to me.
july 27, 2010
The Sun Will Rise Fifteen Minutes Later
The sun will rise fifteen minutes
later than yesterday
And there are new tiny veins
that remind me of my grandmother
running around my calf
The temperature will drop three degrees, thank God,
in the next hour
And one afternoon will add to another
and add up to a friendship
Little dreams that are nothing more –
sorting a stack of books, making space –
will amount, eventually, to something.
Little lines that don’t seem to stick,
but fade, will amount -
the “and”s are there to connect them -
to something.
july 14, 2010
later than yesterday
And there are new tiny veins
that remind me of my grandmother
running around my calf
The temperature will drop three degrees, thank God,
in the next hour
And one afternoon will add to another
and add up to a friendship
Little dreams that are nothing more –
sorting a stack of books, making space –
will amount, eventually, to something.
Little lines that don’t seem to stick,
but fade, will amount -
the “and”s are there to connect them -
to something.
july 14, 2010
Blue Birthday Poem
My birthday is blue and white
a flagging sky not done turning,
a little tired of the effort
but drinking the wind
like gin through its teeth.
My birthday is a tee shirt, a skirt,
and hair as long as it's ever been
dusting dreams from the late morning.
My birthday is the matte envelope
a peony slides from
and the ceramic waves it glazes
blue and neon.
june 26, 2010
a flagging sky not done turning,
a little tired of the effort
but drinking the wind
like gin through its teeth.
My birthday is a tee shirt, a skirt,
and hair as long as it's ever been
dusting dreams from the late morning.
My birthday is the matte envelope
a peony slides from
and the ceramic waves it glazes
blue and neon.
june 26, 2010
Envelopes
How is the sun rise so different from its set?
How is one so opaque, dense with beginning
and the other like coloured tissue slipping,
complicated and spent?
One pours over a body, burying it
the other pours through it, sifting
lifting the worthwhile over the trees
and leaving just ash on a bench.
How do they repeat their concentration daily
never letting it seem like before?
july 3, 2010
How is one so opaque, dense with beginning
and the other like coloured tissue slipping,
complicated and spent?
One pours over a body, burying it
the other pours through it, sifting
lifting the worthwhile over the trees
and leaving just ash on a bench.
How do they repeat their concentration daily
never letting it seem like before?
july 3, 2010
Bird Lives
The moment before a frozen bird
leaves itself to the sidewalk
does it try its best
to look over its shoulder
at its folded wing
remembering how
it hurt as it grew
hollow filaments
strong enough to lift it over
the layers of day and night
Does it think
it was worth it?
july 3, 2010
leaves itself to the sidewalk
does it try its best
to look over its shoulder
at its folded wing
remembering how
it hurt as it grew
hollow filaments
strong enough to lift it over
the layers of day and night
Does it think
it was worth it?
july 3, 2010
Props
Show your teeth
and shock me
with a new sound
slipping off them
there's a bed post
in my old bedroom
there's a swing the
children abandon in
the heat of the weekend
there's a cigarette
in my drawer
that must taste
bitter as your skin.
These props we tempura painted
for the scenes I write
stand for flight
the reality our
faces encase
our words weigh
trying hard to believe what we
meant to pretend.
But that sound blinding me
in its secret
leaves us bare and
light again.
july 3, 2010
and shock me
with a new sound
slipping off them
there's a bed post
in my old bedroom
there's a swing the
children abandon in
the heat of the weekend
there's a cigarette
in my drawer
that must taste
bitter as your skin.
These props we tempura painted
for the scenes I write
stand for flight
the reality our
faces encase
our words weigh
trying hard to believe what we
meant to pretend.
But that sound blinding me
in its secret
leaves us bare and
light again.
july 3, 2010
Getting Away
The ants crawl over
a body but
it can't feel much
different than
the itch of a river
a coast
a field
flat as a runway
and the way they
disappear
without me.
july 3, 2010
a body but
it can't feel much
different than
the itch of a river
a coast
a field
flat as a runway
and the way they
disappear
without me.
july 3, 2010
Company
If only I were left
in the company of my toes
the little calluses of summer
the thirst behind my tongue
and behind my ear canal
the chimes of river light
the fading day
taking my concern for
whatever else there is
aside from my teeth on lips
clothes contrasting my skin.
july 3, 2010
in the company of my toes
the little calluses of summer
the thirst behind my tongue
and behind my ear canal
the chimes of river light
the fading day
taking my concern for
whatever else there is
aside from my teeth on lips
clothes contrasting my skin.
july 3, 2010
Creases
So like a child I
am intimidated
and amused, both,
by well-creased cynicism.
I can smile at it but
not open my mouth
It's so dry
my breath wouldn't
make a fog.
july 3, 2010
am intimidated
and amused, both,
by well-creased cynicism.
I can smile at it but
not open my mouth
It's so dry
my breath wouldn't
make a fog.
july 3, 2010
As Far As This Train Goes
As far as this train goes
as far as this night goes
it's 11:30 and that's as
far as this cigarette goes
a second drink will slow
a moment, the simple time,
into a material of love
pulling an hour into an
almost repeating pattern
leaves backlit to prove
place is as important as weather
for wandering shades to recognize
the bodies of one another.
july 4, 2010
as far as this night goes
it's 11:30 and that's as
far as this cigarette goes
a second drink will slow
a moment, the simple time,
into a material of love
pulling an hour into an
almost repeating pattern
leaves backlit to prove
place is as important as weather
for wandering shades to recognize
the bodies of one another.
july 4, 2010
Run Through
Doors askance
accidents
my pink once flushed
bones
try to ignore
the thrash of open doors
smearing recognition
under my skin
verving out of control
My bones shush
clatter colours
while doors and accidents
run me through.
july 4, 2010
accidents
my pink once flushed
bones
try to ignore
the thrash of open doors
smearing recognition
under my skin
verving out of control
My bones shush
clatter colours
while doors and accidents
run me through.
july 4, 2010
For Forgetting
The night threatened to give up
Before we did
The vines trailed
Thinking we’d come after
Conversation collapsed on the carpet
And the song lines stopped trying
To remind us of time.
july 4, 2010
Before we did
The vines trailed
Thinking we’d come after
Conversation collapsed on the carpet
And the song lines stopped trying
To remind us of time.
july 4, 2010
Things That Fall from Flight
Drink the starry airplane lights
the so-so hands of leaves.
I've never been afraid of
falling fireflies
failing sight.
Is the skin under your fingernails
as numb with would-be words
as mine?
Do your hands grow up
over your face
too fast?
I've never been afraid
of the closeness
of your voice up my spine
Or the moon falling to earth.
Jun 16, 2010
the so-so hands of leaves.
I've never been afraid of
falling fireflies
failing sight.
Is the skin under your fingernails
as numb with would-be words
as mine?
Do your hands grow up
over your face
too fast?
I've never been afraid
of the closeness
of your voice up my spine
Or the moon falling to earth.
Jun 16, 2010
Waking Woman
She swings her arms
they go over her head, knuckles first
they go below her knees, palms now.
She dusts the morning
wiping the corners where
the night catches she
wipes her eyes
stares into the clouds
to fill the whites and
drain the blacks
of their dream bath
murky with stillness.
June 12, 2010
they go over her head, knuckles first
they go below her knees, palms now.
She dusts the morning
wiping the corners where
the night catches she
wipes her eyes
stares into the clouds
to fill the whites and
drain the blacks
of their dream bath
murky with stillness.
June 12, 2010
Set
Talk slow
break the commas
over the breath
we're sharing
hold that blackened pen
still; the words it
would arrest
should sink to the hollow
horizon as free as light
as counted as
steps with a cane.
And before the coming
thrum, the next shape
of your tongue, the light has
turned reflection blue.
Jun 16, 2010
break the commas
over the breath
we're sharing
hold that blackened pen
still; the words it
would arrest
should sink to the hollow
horizon as free as light
as counted as
steps with a cane.
And before the coming
thrum, the next shape
of your tongue, the light has
turned reflection blue.
Jun 16, 2010
Lake Like a Body
Waves on the water
make scales on the body
The body
it cools under cover
of sleeping
then asks me out
though I don't belong to it
pointing out the tassels of hair
twisting for it
asking with never ending patterns
that lean on the opposite shore
then turn back for me.
June 12, 2010
make scales on the body
The body
it cools under cover
of sleeping
then asks me out
though I don't belong to it
pointing out the tassels of hair
twisting for it
asking with never ending patterns
that lean on the opposite shore
then turn back for me.
June 12, 2010
More Kin
Let's not fear dropping our
things in water that would
ruin them. Let's only
make it so
that as our calves harden
under the surface,
our love is not as thin
as ink. More kin
to waves of water
than to waves of ours.
Jun 12, 2010
things in water that would
ruin them. Let's only
make it so
that as our calves harden
under the surface,
our love is not as thin
as ink. More kin
to waves of water
than to waves of ours.
Jun 12, 2010
Art of Illiteracy
Someone thought they
owned language
and flailed it
across the bodies of others.
The another
forced to wear it
ill-fitting syllabary
forgot her old own
maybe, but not its meanings
She told hers
these are your clothes, yes
But under here,
she touched their skin
there are your meanings
our old own.
They will teach themselves to you.
She left with it tangled in her hair
maybe, but the hair of her children
smelled familiar
their skin warming under it
they found the offbeat
where language isn't anybody's.
It fit just right in their mouths.
Jun 4, 2010
owned language
and flailed it
across the bodies of others.
The another
forced to wear it
ill-fitting syllabary
forgot her old own
maybe, but not its meanings
She told hers
these are your clothes, yes
But under here,
she touched their skin
there are your meanings
our old own.
They will teach themselves to you.
She left with it tangled in her hair
maybe, but the hair of her children
smelled familiar
their skin warming under it
they found the offbeat
where language isn't anybody's.
It fit just right in their mouths.
Jun 4, 2010
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