SMALL MOON
As I try again to
memorize your absence,
midnight returns, all
elbows and animals.
You are as beautiful
as the bare necessity
you become when
I'm alone, waiting
for the song to
continue, the one
you refused to sing
in my presence,
but now insist on singing
in your absence.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
FIRST DATE
Assuming you could see
me and knew my name,
would you fall deeply
in love with me or
just leave and chalk
everything up to experience?
Listen, I can't promise
anything, but I'm
pretty sure if I saw
you and knew your
name, I'd jump off
a bridge to impress you.
Then we could have dinner
or something. A movie.
Assuming you could see
me and knew my name,
would you fall deeply
in love with me or
just leave and chalk
everything up to experience?
Listen, I can't promise
anything, but I'm
pretty sure if I saw
you and knew your
name, I'd jump off
a bridge to impress you.
Then we could have dinner
or something. A movie.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
NOCTURNE
A bird decays in mid-air.
Dust and a few feathers
filtering down from above.
Meanwhile the bird
continues on through the city,
pecking out windows,
popping light bulbs with its beak,
while in sixteen darkened bedrooms
boys with gleaming rifles
begin bouncing bee-bees
off the bleached skulls of their mothers.
In other words, midnight.
In other words, the earth
hatches a silence
which is bird-like.
A small, feathered silence
that spreads its razor-like wings
and skids
noiselessly
along a seam in the night.
A bird decays in mid-air.
Dust and a few feathers
filtering down from above.
Meanwhile the bird
continues on through the city,
pecking out windows,
popping light bulbs with its beak,
while in sixteen darkened bedrooms
boys with gleaming rifles
begin bouncing bee-bees
off the bleached skulls of their mothers.
In other words, midnight.
In other words, the earth
hatches a silence
which is bird-like.
A small, feathered silence
that spreads its razor-like wings
and skids
noiselessly
along a seam in the night.
MINNESANG
Recapping the rose's
rise to fame requires
one to start somewhere
in the middle of the
Middle Ages. Not in
the exact middle necessarily
(which would be hard,
if not impossible, to
locate), but somewhere
near the middle of
the middle of the
so-called Middle Ages.
Yes, there, next to
Walther von der Vogelweide.
Recapping the rose's
rise to fame requires
one to start somewhere
in the middle of the
Middle Ages. Not in
the exact middle necessarily
(which would be hard,
if not impossible, to
locate), but somewhere
near the middle of
the middle of the
so-called Middle Ages.
Yes, there, next to
Walther von der Vogelweide.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
KNUCKLEBALL ALIBIS
Finding a good alibi's
an art like everything
else in life. The secret's
in the wrist. Think
of a good alibi as
a curveball or slider
that breaks so late
the batter has no chance.
Knuckleballs are best,
of course, when it comes
to alibis. They don't
"break" exactly. They
"bounce" off the air
like a broken balloon.
Finding a good alibi's
an art like everything
else in life. The secret's
in the wrist. Think
of a good alibi as
a curveball or slider
that breaks so late
the batter has no chance.
Knuckleballs are best,
of course, when it comes
to alibis. They don't
"break" exactly. They
"bounce" off the air
like a broken balloon.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
FOR WANDA ON HER BIRTHDAY
Having followed you
to the edge of your
footsteps and stopped,
I understand where
longing belongs and
gladly deposit it there
for safe-keeping.
I hope you have grown
young enough by now
to recognize ecstasy
again and to appreciate
(as we all should)
how busy history is
escaping from our books.
Having followed you
to the edge of your
footsteps and stopped,
I understand where
longing belongs and
gladly deposit it there
for safe-keeping.
I hope you have grown
young enough by now
to recognize ecstasy
again and to appreciate
(as we all should)
how busy history is
escaping from our books.
Monday, October 18, 2010
GRAVITY
Communion wafers drifting
down like snow from
the rafters. Other than
that, just another evening.
I think I told you
about George, who wasn't
where we left him
(when is he?), and about
Emily, who buried
herself in the back yard.
And the gradual accumulation
of gravity, of course,
around the edges, slowly
pulling us in.
Communion wafers drifting
down like snow from
the rafters. Other than
that, just another evening.
I think I told you
about George, who wasn't
where we left him
(when is he?), and about
Emily, who buried
herself in the back yard.
And the gradual accumulation
of gravity, of course,
around the edges, slowly
pulling us in.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Elaine Equi's RIPPLE EFFECT: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS
I've been rereading Elaine Equi's poems. A unique poet with an unusually wide range. She can be witty (even silly at times), poignant, profound (sometimes all three in the same poem). Always sassy and in-your-face. I recommend her.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
AUGUST AGAIN
My eyes crawl like ants
over Cezanne's delicious
fruit. It must be August
again. The months fly by
so fast now it's almost
always later than I think
(earlier than I dare dream,
though, now that I
actually do think).
Time to turn off
the gas again and live
longer than my parents
did or could, who had
no way of knowing.
My eyes crawl like ants
over Cezanne's delicious
fruit. It must be August
again. The months fly by
so fast now it's almost
always later than I think
(earlier than I dare dream,
though, now that I
actually do think).
Time to turn off
the gas again and live
longer than my parents
did or could, who had
no way of knowing.
YOU KNOW
The mortician's daughter
in the town I grew
up in was hot.
We all wanted her.
Sort of. Maybe she
was blond or something,
or maybe she had
big, you know, eyebrows.
I honestly don't remember.
But I do remember she
managed to be hot, despite
what her father did
to our dearly departed before
dropping them into the darkness.
The mortician's daughter
in the town I grew
up in was hot.
We all wanted her.
Sort of. Maybe she
was blond or something,
or maybe she had
big, you know, eyebrows.
I honestly don't remember.
But I do remember she
managed to be hot, despite
what her father did
to our dearly departed before
dropping them into the darkness.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
HELLO
You had me at "hello",
but then you said
something else that I
didn't like nearly as well
as I had liked your
"hello" (the "hello"
was a really good one),
so I never called you
like I said I would.
Sorry about that. In
case we should ever
run into one another
again, I'd appreciate it
if you'd stop at "hello".
You had me at "hello",
but then you said
something else that I
didn't like nearly as well
as I had liked your
"hello" (the "hello"
was a really good one),
so I never called you
like I said I would.
Sorry about that. In
case we should ever
run into one another
again, I'd appreciate it
if you'd stop at "hello".
Sunday, October 10, 2010
TOO
When the mirror begins
resembling you too closely,
look away. Save what's
left for another day, knowing
it will be there when you
need it. What won't be
there won't matter much,
stuck, as it always is,
in the all-but-used-up
future tense of time.
Redeem your coupons
while you may.
Don't do anything
while you mayn't.
When the mirror begins
resembling you too closely,
look away. Save what's
left for another day, knowing
it will be there when you
need it. What won't be
there won't matter much,
stuck, as it always is,
in the all-but-used-up
future tense of time.
Redeem your coupons
while you may.
Don't do anything
while you mayn't.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
RHINO
The rhinoceros, of course,
ends with us not knowing
where the nose goes
while elsewhere a rose
goes on smelling sweet
without its name. (Would
we were the same.) The
'the' in 'there' might as
well be a 'duh' (almost
is, truth to tell). Hope
you're half as swell
as you often seem to
be in this dream I keep
having about the two of us.
The rhinoceros, of course,
ends with us not knowing
where the nose goes
while elsewhere a rose
goes on smelling sweet
without its name. (Would
we were the same.) The
'the' in 'there' might as
well be a 'duh' (almost
is, truth to tell). Hope
you're half as swell
as you often seem to
be in this dream I keep
having about the two of us.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Friday, October 1, 2010
THEN
Because the air has been
replaced by music,
my car won't start.
I kick one of the round
rubbery circles the car
rests on and tell it to
get a move on. It
doesn't budge. Then my
pencils start thinking
they're something else
and don't jot down
some really great ideas
I suddenly find myself in
possession of. Then they do.
Because the air has been
replaced by music,
my car won't start.
I kick one of the round
rubbery circles the car
rests on and tell it to
get a move on. It
doesn't budge. Then my
pencils start thinking
they're something else
and don't jot down
some really great ideas
I suddenly find myself in
possession of. Then they do.
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