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Surround
Corvus has a hard time drinking ice. The ravenous grackle and the earless starling. Limon tree was sung. Becomes elastic with oaks around.
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bees rapture for PO — 2.3.08
bees vanish & their ghostly empty hives collapse queens abandoned in combs quiet journeyworkers have gone that host raveled out into spangling winter light did they follow jitter-danced maps down hymn paths or fall faithless notes winding on the winds?
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twenty-one homophonic couplets
anachronism enacts a chrism * convince me connivance be * abysmal attitudes as be mal altitudes * nourish the flower flourish in the now or — * belated salvation steers souls on serrated shelves of stars born * terra infirma terror firm * pleading with signs sine waves bleating * eyes encased in ice in […]
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And These Are My Feelings
And the people, these American people have spoken. We love your heart, they say. You can have it, I say to the people. Open your mouths sit here a while, and wait for it, I say. It is falling from the sky it is a piece of the sky and today you are all Jason […]
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Of Love and Water
1. The sun’s intensity In open eyes – the conflagration Is explicit. The bedrock is conflict And what peace there is Is brief. We see one another, Speak and collaborate, Yet the blood is hot And the belly hungers, The mouth dries in need Of water and love Is a separate intensity. Schopenhauer’s Proposal complicates […]
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No Reality But the Ruined Idea of a God We Speak To
Gnat caught in the breath of a dismantled catechism on a cracked pew in a cathedral by the sea, restore with your nothing wings the way to where I left my shoes. No imagination but in your tiny, ruptured eyes which may as well see no thing, before a brain which cannot count, behind the […]
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…999999…
The passive voice is speaking. Quietly, quietly, what it knows it knows. Today we are inventing a language, starting with nouns, our favorite. Today we are thinking in blue, today we are thinking in numbers. What is this thing called thinking? What is this thing that will not act? When did the machine start, and […]
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This Poem for My Sister
And we wouldn’t have to call it Girls’ Night and it wouldn’t be. Leave your things behind. Choose a place to meet. The road turns into a University and we wish we were students. Teach me, whiskey on the soccer field, October. The road is long and full of terrible conversation. The road feels our […]
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Answer
That hand hitting the door taught us to stutter one or two beauties to scare off the boogies. I’ll try not to say, “Passivity and abstraction got us here; language and materialism probably won’t save us,” as I bury my head more deeply in that knocking, but I probably will say it, or less. What […]