12 I’ve thought about this event, didn’t know how to write it or what it meant. he must have come home with me…maybe I offered him the couch? but I woke on the couch and he was at the round table by the window with the view onto the bottle shop and car dealers at…
Tag: time & memory
from Things Are Wrong Though Fair Enough
11. A BIRTH I begin again on what it took: a Solar System, many bones, an undercover life. I am now become detective in the womb growing to a music from the room I form to muffled shouts and laughter, a waterfall in sunlight, dazzling white, and rain, prism clean as the space I am…
Rising Star
Cold, Cold night No one to say Hi !! So I look at the sky Clouds passing by Cold, Cold night I look up high Calling my Name A Star in the sky Lonely, Not alone but, I am fine, Said I Stars shining Bright I see them in the sky Sitting on a tree…
from Hail Gazers #2
1 Come the cold, darkening afternoon, the Earth tilting the drinker toward his retirement, the folding travel armchair in the sunny yellow corner by the elongated arms of knitted winter shadow, taken backward and put into the box, the lid screwed back on the little Malt left. 2 You’re old enough to remember when licensed…
from Hail Gazers
‘I know, I know that through me it will go: Sadness which shakes not a flower, lifts not a shadow in pain’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . whenever I live in or…
I am sorry
I am sorry I don’t want to stand still I want to begin to crawl And walk, run and jump But the sinking sand stops me Me and all of my stars high in the heavens. I am sorry My heart is weak and I am weak without a heart My lungs fill…
from Workers of the Hours # 2
1 I pulled out, blind on my left, condensation on windows on the passenger side, cobwebs and night dew on the rearview mirror— pulled into traffic and didn’t care: if it is algorithms we base decisions on I hadn’t factored out as far as Pluto contracted with one of the moons of Saturn relative Sirius…
Cover Smitten Validated
home!, in the whiskey rubber looseness of the first hour after work, seated softly and alert, because of where I live, a patched compartment, a hive of the unemployed and the left behind elderly. a desert without oasis, except for the band, from somewhere above me; home of the prostitute and boy-pimp, the Agency suspects,…
clearing the wardrobe #1
the Past is an old pair of shoes, or cement filled footprints, and I don’t want to care, too much, about where I’ve walked, so I’m going to change this Poem’s metaphor to one of playing monopoly, but with people, relationships traded for knowing something instead of owning it. you roll her onto her side…
beard in-fancy #2
4 the shock of the day is my new auto payment. the poetic interest is anthropological. the personal need is a difficult night to overcome. we are the ripples on the surface of Sleep, giving very little indication of why the water rose up. 40 some seasons of rent paid without a price increase at…
northern wanders early autumn
flowing— plonking, lumpily through my fingers, dawn-cold sand, a mauve colour, at the grey beach, by the play equipment, where I’d slept, deeply & sedately, underneath the electron microscope. a ‘star’ is doubtless countless many things more than language -polished lenses can ever clarify, these floating stellar focusing devices, so many things whilom bankers, priests,…
That girl, From The Party After The play
Caution: contains erotic content someone I didn’t know slept on next to me, I didn’t wake her, when I rose, sickened, to medicate from the cool frigates moored in the harbours of the mind and any apprehension left me as I lit the first enrolment form and moved the blanket covering a long spine, cellulite,…