Monday, January 31, 2011
NOT YET
We know the sound of two mirrors facing one another, but what is the sound of one mirror turning around to look at itself?
IN KEEPING WITH THE WHOLE
A tantalizingly wide way leads to
my impossible future, impossible because
I can't be there, having been confined
to this moment by an overzealous gatekeeper.
I wish I could find myself doing something else
instead of being so nostalgic about things
that haven't happened yet. You are a
changed person. I can tell from the way
you resume the same thing over and over.
I admire your method of stumbling into
a backward way of seeming accidental,
slowly disappearing into the sunset
while everyone else is focused on the other sunset,
the one painted onto the wall by an anonymous muralist.
A tantalizingly wide way leads to
my impossible future, impossible because
I can't be there, having been confined
to this moment by an overzealous gatekeeper.
I wish I could find myself doing something else
instead of being so nostalgic about things
that haven't happened yet. You are a
changed person. I can tell from the way
you resume the same thing over and over.
I admire your method of stumbling into
a backward way of seeming accidental,
slowly disappearing into the sunset
while everyone else is focused on the other sunset,
the one painted onto the wall by an anonymous muralist.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
BY DAY
I'm not sure what's
meant by an old man
skipping along a roadbed.
But I have some
clever ideas about death
I'd be willing to share with
you after they finish
drilling for oil in
my brain. A bug
still delivers the elixir,
of course, and disillusioned
men still drill themselves
into the ground day
by dreary day.
I'm not sure what's
meant by an old man
skipping along a roadbed.
But I have some
clever ideas about death
I'd be willing to share with
you after they finish
drilling for oil in
my brain. A bug
still delivers the elixir,
of course, and disillusioned
men still drill themselves
into the ground day
by dreary day.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
NEXT WEEK
No one bothers
to finish children
these days. They drop
them off and ask
themselves what others
think. No one answers.
No one points a finger
in the direction of
direction. Nothing needing
doing's getting done.
Nothing's as unlikely
as forever is impossible
to build a fence around.
Until next week again.
No one bothers
to finish children
these days. They drop
them off and ask
themselves what others
think. No one answers.
No one points a finger
in the direction of
direction. Nothing needing
doing's getting done.
Nothing's as unlikely
as forever is impossible
to build a fence around.
Until next week again.
Monday, January 24, 2011
DEATH BY DROWNING
Convinced she had cancer and that water was the cure, she drank and drank until she had washed herself out of her body. "Death by drowning" the medical examiner called it.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
(SELF)DELUSION
For those who insist there must be no 'I' in the poem. Please understand. The 'I' is there, whether you mention it by name of not.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
SOMEONE ELSE
A different way of
looking at things is
often the same way of
looking at things on
a different page. By the
same token is actually
by a different token
tossed into a deliberately
identical fountain. I'm not
making this up. I'm
tearing it down so that
you can see what it
might have looked like if
someone else had made it.
A different way of
looking at things is
often the same way of
looking at things on
a different page. By the
same token is actually
by a different token
tossed into a deliberately
identical fountain. I'm not
making this up. I'm
tearing it down so that
you can see what it
might have looked like if
someone else had made it.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
ANCIENT HISTORY
It was the barbarians, of course, who turned the Romans into ancient history, where they had to stand in line behind the Babylonians, Egyptians, Persians, Greeks, etc., before it became their turn and they were permitted to set about conquering Gaul and systematically redirecting water into more convenient locations.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
AT PEACE WITH CIRCUMSTANCE
A dream, to succeed,
must first plant itself
in us like a seed
that sees the future.
An overnight snow
kept us inside
ourselves barking
at the sunrise.
Something soul-like
flying past new windows.
My bride, guilty
as a cross, glided
gently through me to be
near the words we whispered.
A dream, to succeed,
must first plant itself
in us like a seed
that sees the future.
An overnight snow
kept us inside
ourselves barking
at the sunrise.
Something soul-like
flying past new windows.
My bride, guilty
as a cross, glided
gently through me to be
near the words we whispered.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
STRANDED
It's the same as saying
life goes on even though
it may not. Reality
creates a pattern and slides
it under the door. Meanwhile,
I keep digging up bits
of a language I buried
a long time ago. But
when I put the words
together, either nothing
happens, or something is
said, but in a voice so
low not even the neighbors
can remember what I mean.
It's the same as saying
life goes on even though
it may not. Reality
creates a pattern and slides
it under the door. Meanwhile,
I keep digging up bits
of a language I buried
a long time ago. But
when I put the words
together, either nothing
happens, or something is
said, but in a voice so
low not even the neighbors
can remember what I mean.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
THE DISTANCE BETWEEN HERE AND NOW
With you into a silence
only night can explain.
The telephone and its story,
one that leaves the art part out of Oslo.
Often I would see you walking there.
Other times the moon would seem to slip
between the trees. Or I would imagine
myself interrupting you as you were about
to say something. I never know what.
I always assume more than can happen
and end up having to forgive myself again.
Then I close my eyes and pretend
it has to be Tuesday. As if that
could be the answer to a prayer.
With you into a silence
only night can explain.
The telephone and its story,
one that leaves the art part out of Oslo.
Often I would see you walking there.
Other times the moon would seem to slip
between the trees. Or I would imagine
myself interrupting you as you were about
to say something. I never know what.
I always assume more than can happen
and end up having to forgive myself again.
Then I close my eyes and pretend
it has to be Tuesday. As if that
could be the answer to a prayer.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
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