Wednesday, August 16, 2017

The Fly

the fly follows me drawn
to my reading light and
won't sit down so I can
kill it for being annoying

its buzz is not deliberate
nor its distracting pattern
intruding in my thoughts
I stand helplessly armed

Monday, August 14, 2017

Still Hungry

the body has the last word
beyond what words can do
the mind must make peace
pictures memory in stories
trumped by the feeling gut
grasping for sweet release

whether everything is told
withheld distorted warped
doesn't matter to the belly
still hungry after the feast
grumbling for more words
to eat and never satisfied

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Two Books

I finished two books in a year
both short but long enough
should be satisfied instead
I have the postpartum blues
distract myself with reading
practicing the piano gardening
won't feel quite right until I
start writing something else

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Feeling Strange

suddenly told I'm old
I hesitate to disagree
no one knows better
I am feeling strange
nothing can be done
this what's going on

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Still Me

I thought it was tomorrow
if today it will be hotter still
we get up and immediately
set about being ourselves
doing what we normally do
thinking and speaking aloud
about our usual preoccupations
I thought I was someone else
not yet fully formed still free
still dreaming I find myself
at the beginning of a race
everything depends on a tire
touchingly thin and smooth
and a rim and delicate spokes
off you go and I am still here
wondering which day it is
and whether I am still me

Wednesday, August 09, 2017

Another Hand

solitaire cleanses the brain
nothing exists except the fall
of the cards another hand
waiting for the laying out
another play of probability
nothing at stake win or lose

Tuesday, August 08, 2017

Smoke

smoke unblues the sky
causes Carol to cough
but doesn't cool the sun
saps the earth of water
gladioli break and wilt
chickens colonize shade
cats don't seem to mind
people long for a breeze
to clear the smoke away
and renew the weary air

Monday, August 07, 2017

Being Me

not as curious or adoring
I'm stuck with being me
the way I ordinarily am
which is not at all bad
not famous and rich but
that doesn't work anyway
being happy and stuff
I want but don't really

Sunday, August 06, 2017

More Heat

early water anticipates more heat
farm welcomes afternoon poetry
further breakfast follows formal
pause fresh melting comes clean

then you notice the classic pattern
depending on type sprinklers rotate
or oscillate imaginary rainbows
flowing from the permanent laws

smoke dissipates blown elsewhere
constituent particles disassociated
like friends like pins on a map of
everything that ever was or will be

Saturday, August 05, 2017

The Future

"I don't feel I'm getting older, I feel I'm getting closer." —Rachel Cusk

the future let me speak for it now
it is real even if it never happens
what is to be or you want to be
causes you to do what you do
more than what already happened
where you came from who you are
defines the role not causing action
which needs the future to impel it
the future is what matters most

Friday, August 04, 2017

So Much

for Jean-Claude van Itallie

consider the gulf between the
Kansas City Country Club
and fleeing the Nazis
albeit in charming company

and yet we are friends and
fellows in the Sangha and
the forest become a park
populated with Chinese saints

and too we are equal citizens
writhing under crazy leaders
democracy a mockery power
threatening human survival

so much for manners and art
trivialized by sheer vulgarity
confident of its fake identity
molded to sell and sold

Thursday, August 03, 2017

Write Soon

is this reading or writing if I read
what I have already written and
change it reading it to myself again

or send it to someone by email
promising to actually write soon
or then sit myself down and do it

is it me writing it or does it just
arise like everything else in life
whether or not it's written down

Wednesday, August 02, 2017

The Same

for Sam Shepard

what I liked is remembered
55 years later we are still
imagining ourselves the same
young creatives hoping for eyes
and ears to recognize respond
to whatever we managed to do
then and in intervening decades
not just the momentary fame

Tuesday, August 01, 2017

Another Question

am I speaking for myself
or some idea of what is
necessary or appropriate
which it is much matters
whether profound or trivial

am I me or is this a pose
might be another question
if I were Keats and falling
in love the other misbehaves
and all is lost and over

or merely a verbal construct
insinuating into the glass
fashion showing feathers
no poet should disdain
remain himself and true