I hate coming up with names for my poems, can you tell? If they were published, they would either be numbered, or all called the same: New Poem.
on every park bench
every fountain ledge
a candle lit in the dark
to remember.
the letters written
were never read, but
burned in a pan in
the driveway, the
smoke rising, filling
their eyes with visions
of [...]
Yeah, so after being at the soap factory $99 sale on Friday, then the Lyndale/Kingsfield/Aldrich Pre Garage Sale Sale and then a lovely porch until 3:30 Saturday morning, I went to the farmers market to grab a bagelwich for breakfast before heading north. Yeah, that is a lot to digest. This post will be like [...]
» Read the rest of this entry ...Pleasure
I left your sun setting in a
Different notebook and didn’t
Notice the pages turning violet
On their edges
Absent their only mark of time the
neighborhood kids turn their open
mouths & eyes to the burnished sky—
a sky absent of light or dark and with mouths open
pour their laughter up and into it,
spilling it through the kitchen window & no
Paper [...]
Summer Days
Summer afternoon in
A dark living room
You on the couch eyes
Half closed after mowing
The lawn, but still open
Enough that we knew
Not to turn the channel from
The dusty old WGN “shit kicker”
That had held his imagination since
He was young
He said the slow drawl and the
High plains clouds driving towards
The horizon forever was all a man
Needed to [...]
The shiny pieces he selected:
Sound:Gunfire
Color:Black
Smell: Cordite
Sensation:Pain
Place: My backyard
The poem I wrote:
the dog slipped
on the ice
in the backyard
& when he fell,
he twisted,
his lean back
contorting, his
short black
coat shining
the cordite sun
indifferent, not
even warm,
looking elsewhere
the unnatural
sound of an animal
in pain too much
to bear
a pop and a jump
& a single gunshot
echoed against the
trees, the sky, the
face of the sun
shrinking away
as [...]
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GcEKq7D3IW0[/youtube]
I can appreciate people who smile w/
their whole face, teeth included.
I am not one of them. In fact,
I just smiled, could you tell?
But when I laugh you can
see my entire soul shimmering
like fish slapping the bottom
of a bucket
leftover winter leaves
still sit dried on shivering trees
a dirvish of them twisted
and tickled the dusty
sparrow feathers
in my chest.