Joseph Of Cupertino

The word "tall"
is a short word,
shorter than the
word "short",

though not quite
as short as
the word "all".
The word "levitate"

describes an action
that is unable to
occur outside the
imaginations of

Joseph of Cupertino
and his followers.

Pauses

Time is a garden
in which memories
grow until they've
become large enough

to be afterthoughts
dressed in pink.
My cousin is
the gardener.

Like most gardeners,
he is unreliable.
He allows time
to bribe him

with brief pauses
that never end.

At The Present Time

I often imagine
you trying to write
the poems I write,
but not being

able to because
you are not me.
This problem you
have of not being

able to be me
is, I am told by
people who
say they know,

unsolvable
at the the present time.

Herbst

Gulls, too far
inland, seem
to object to
the way I write

as I cautiously
walk out of one
way of behaving
into a treeless

field.  Lord, the
summer was so
grand.  Let the
wind blow freely

through the land.
It's time.

Termites

An orchard my
memories liked
to hide in was
torn down in

the fifties to
make room for
post-war housing.
Some of my fondest

memories ended
up in the rafters
of three-bedroom
homes.  I like to think

of them as termites
eating into the wood.

Hereafter

Out in the dew-coated
garden a tulip
parts its lips
in anticipation

of a promiscuous
sun.  Noon
nods its head
in agreement.

Everything that can
goes smoothly, running
every stop
sign between

here and what's
left of hereafter.

Every Yesterday

I spend most
of my days
waiting for a
letter that was

never sent.
Knowing it was
never sent
relaxes me,

allows me to
reach evening
without a hitch.
It's a letter I

address to myself
every yesterday.