11/28/2009

Lonely

 

Roads that are familiar to her,
Roads lined by tall trees,
Trees preserving her fragrant memories
In rings upon rings,
Each one embracing the last
In protective warmth and weight,
My god, just like these roads,
She could lift them up by the tassels
And bunch them around her neck
Like scarves, mellow and bright,
Wrapping her age in romantic recollections.

I don’t see myself anywhere here,
I don’t recognize these roads,
These trees are hard and cold beneath my hands -
I don’t remember the people here,
I only feel lonely and vast, the forgotten sky.

11/28/2009

“Be like the bird that, passing on her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings.”
-Victor Hugo

11/25/2009

Yellow Paper

You look everywhere for pink paper,
The only color that’s right, in your prized opinion.
You only find yellow sheets, your lips fall quiet -
Around your head, hesitation
Flexes its shape like a python.

Hey, believer in the start of things,
How the horizon is pulled back like a bowstring
To send the straight arrow of the dawn over terrains,
Unswayed, singular, determined.
But sooner or later or now you’re getting past that -

Arrows aren’t as straight as they look,
Perfect round seeds produce twisted trees,
Clear skies, even scrutinized by the sun, are invaded by storms.
One-night stands turn into chosen love,
A cobbled street of lies points you somehow to the truth.

Hey, believer in the start of things,
Mighty struggler against the muscled coil,
Shed your skin instead, be new again when you
End up somewhere different this time.

11/21/2009

Weather

All kinds of weather,
Rake brilliant sunlight swiftly through clouds
Like comb’s teeth through my thick white hair.

All kinds of weather,
Twist and squeeze this gray rag of the sky,
Wringing out swollen drops of rain.

All kinds of weather,
Wrap the wind around me like a flapping coat,
Fog up the mirrors of ponds with mist.

All kinds of weather,
Suck the tides with a puckered moon,
Willing to draw the elements closer -

All kinds of weather might find me,
I’m open to that possibility.

11/11/2009

Beetle and Fly

Her long, fine antennae
Crumpled and kinked
Over six tough weeks
Of harsh weather;
She had trouble
Sending signals
Or receiving them.

She took flight;
Flowers shuddered
Under her kick,
Weeds came to
Disapproving conclusions;
Still she left
To find a place and time,
Straighten out her wires,
Remember who she was.

And I, a fly,
My stained glass wings
Wet and too heavy for flight.
I soon came, though,
To a place and time:

My thousand-sided,
Extra wided
Disco ball eyes
Started to see
Crazy dancing all around -

People clapping,
Stamping roughly
On their own souls,
As though they were mere
Beetles and flies,
Too small to matter,

And too small to matter,
Wings wet or dry,
I remembered who I am.

10/27/2009

Him and Her, Light and Dark

His eyes are bobbing quietly like two buoys
On gentle waters
In the neck of the land where she lives.

He stayed up late to watch the moon
Chase its tail like a dog spirit
At the end of his day the color of wheat in the sun.

He stayed up late to illuminate his memory
Like a nighttime field running silver by her light,
Remember: I am your sleeping soul.

His eyes are swimming, or sinking,
I guess it makes no difference to
A tired man who finds happiness
In the vast moments before sleep.

10/27/2009

Him and Her, Light and Dark

His eyes are bobbing quietly like two buoys
On gentle waters
In the neck of the land where she lives.

He stayed up late to watch the moon
Chase its tail like a puppy spirit
At the end of his day the color of wheat in the sun.

He stayed up late to illuminate his memory
Like a nighttime field running silver by her light,
Remember: I am your sleeping soul.

His eyes are swimming, or sinking,
I guess it makes no difference to
A tired man who finds happiness
In the vast moments before sleep.

10/16/2009

I’m not a great bonfire,
Saluting the stars
Out in the clean open,
In the eager company
Of crickets.

I’m a cigarette,
Pinched between two fingers
Sucked down,
Aching orange.

When the day is done with me
It flicks me away
And I have my last
Little firework.

I’m not a new car
With the radio on.
I’m not the kind of car
You’d Sunday drive in.

I’m that old pickup truck,
Engine keeps on turning.
Breath smells like rust,
Windows won’t roll down.

I’m a leaky aluminum boat,
A plastic goldfish bag with holes,
I can still hold a day full of wild embraces
But every day rushes through me like water

10/14/2009

Getting Older

Oh all my love
I’m getting older,
Looking for time; looking for time.

People around here
Don’t know me the way you do,
I throw them off my trail.

What’s my real age? They wonder
While all I can think about
Is the old man sorting fruit in the grocery,

Bent over apples and pears
Like a crumpled brown paper bag.

I am astonished to find this, my year -
Like a lost baby shoe in the subway,
Like a ripped shirt,
Like a dumb, dull button
Strapped to thick fabric

Getting older, getting much older,
Looking for time; looking for time.

10/09/2009

Kathryn Mary Likes Peace Signs

After we drape our coats on stools,
And the beer slumps in the shining glass,
And the saxophone’s tones warm our ears,
And the laughter rises and showers our faces clean -

After the lights mellow in our eyes,
And the traffic in the streets subsides to a hush,
And our voices remain only in flashes of memory,

Everything does find its own place,
And I find myself thinking of you -

Far away and sleeping,
Your breath calls the familiar song,
And tonight finds its nightly, loyal path home
As I find myself thinking of you.