Wandering Excavation
The poems written, Not quite said as I want to say On the eve of the pandemic To have it all go away and See what we are left with On the wire of now, Future passing through and … Continue reading →
Holderlin
Jazz up your exercise, you flabby beasts. Dial on the old phone or push the calculator buttons on Your old main frame. Your progress known, your weaknesses apparent, Abhorrent title of this or that. It is not the office … Continue reading →
Solute
A day as a door left open as elements mingle through. The bread and the wind, the table at rest. Soul’s sufficiency neither sweet nor bitter, A harmony there that sets things to their places here. With such reflection … Continue reading →
Classical Problem
Cramped and crowded, Cooled too long to warm the breath of the axe, The old river running red. Without arms, the torsos of the ancients Toy with my random scrawl – The Tablature of the codex Of slaves and … Continue reading →
Honor Rolls
Plantagenet kings on the morning gristle, Knouts and burls on the tree where limbs should be, Now shorn and wicked, Stunted by imagination’s too distant star, Her glint of prefectures and offices Gleaned and earned from the lamb. Symphony … Continue reading →
In Sympathy of Solstice Conjoined
Ecclesiastes and the calendar now placed by the atomic clock and good astronomy precisely at the juncture of shades crossing the earth’s slight tilt. Even Psychology, the poor cousin, is included with the genomics of disease spread and … Continue reading →
Aria
You find yourself, a sitting queen or king, Patron of the fortunes milling in their studios, or On the corner, in cafes and theaters conceiving as In the night the wings brush all of our eyes. A quiet talk … Continue reading →
The Great Auk
Things we look at, In the mind’s eye conceived, As by each other assured. The constancy is as the bird by the window or The historian’s thick tome. Subject as project, the illuminations of the manuscript With a light … Continue reading →
The Plural of All Singularity
Bored with a self of detachment, Weighed in the body and the bodies of the world, its stones and animals. Same types over and over again for a little spare change at the subway entrance. People all wrapped up. … Continue reading →
Hope
There is a house, eclipsed. That chair sits for years, empty as a bag in the landfill. Damage is done in ignoring, That chair is blue. Paint chipping, square, infinite.
Continue reading →