Something’s falling in increments of banging and slight popping, klunks,and then littlechittering rolls,the roof I mean is being hit by objectsnuts, fruitsof the season: this miserable natural worldhurls these things…and then there’re the wolf howlsor coyotesas they callthem here and the barks and snuffles of so-called bearsand yesterday I saw a small tub-bottomed bishopcrossing the…
sometimes I’m issued a new headand the old one dropsoff and then I see the new one isn’t newit’s a usedhead, sometimes a bit moldyor flushedwith rage, this headfilled with notes on what is wrong with the worldor carrying a listof expendables or groceriesa head that remembers sunset castinga golden shineinto the wheator the painting…
A tense obligato, the light comes up out of a shallow grave.It was only resting. Sulphur butterflies, taking a holidayin the garden, one in shades of yellow and orange, the otherthe same plus chestnut spots, drift abovewhite-faced mallows, giving a sense of softness, richnessto the situation, paralleling the stinks and murderpoking up everywhere, each an…
a crisis averted in gulfport pops up again in forest hillsor someone’s talking about a job bucking timber or after a coldlobster supper on the cape its fabricator forgets the singular phrasethat explains everything and then you’re revokingyesterday’s permit or tailing a cheat across lower manhattanor you’ve just changed the name of your dreamboat and…
I took absence down to the ocean and becauseit is blind, I told it about the waves.I held its warm hair. When it wept I placed my armsaround the wind shape of a cliff and felt for edges.I walked beside absence in the streets at nightand I let it tell me stories. Child who is…
Every drip startles me: rain falling off the edge of mooninto the earth. Asleep next to a man who does not love meany more than he loves a river. I move to another room,closer to the rain without being touched. My brother sleeps (does he sleep?) in a rehab center in the Blue Ridge Mountains.I pray…
“Fire at a Brooklyn Warehouse Puts Private Lives on Display,”(1 Feb 2015, The New York Times) No lives were lost. Nothing was guttedbut the crumpling warehouse and its contents:medical forms, court transcripts, sonograms, bank checks. They’re like treasure maps,someone said of the half-charred scraps.But they weren’t. This was the opposite— it was as if the…
It’s 11:02.I was supposed to take the kids outside at 10:13.My underwear is over my head.I’m trying to sniff out the boy I once was,my private parts tiny and nutmeg.I didn’t give a shit about Superman.I was in love with Watergate.Watergate was my super hero.All that corruption. That darkness.Those men in black suits, greasy hair,…
In this new country of ours we will, let’s face it, be endlessly debating,endlessly refining, so much talking!—at least in the beginning, whenwe’ve just arrived. And probably later as well, always arriving as we arein this mortality, with so much to say and so little mind-reading. Wewill continue to use words to say our ideas…
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