Good Idea

that's how anything gets done
a little at a time or all at once
in a flash then work it out over
weeks months years hoping it
was a good idea to begin with

Never Stop

for Daniel Potter

be there if you have to for the last
impression or literary remark not
always funny not always anything

afterwards you won't have to be
inadequately flattered these laughs
cost nothing that hasn't been paid

bounce forward another time was
promised meet the need you always
did would stood for higher values

everything will be undone is why
we need philosophers and heroes
who know why they can never stop

Variations

too many flowers the hummingbird
avidly ravenously hovering sipping
piercing deep into the tiny blossom
craving sweetness drunk on spring

I too in my sapient way devolve to
something simpler lurching dreamy
across the lawn from one thing to
something else unfolding in the day

this the summation like a cadence
at the end of a movement enough
for now then something different
a scherzo a minuet and variations

Being Brave

up or down in the world alive
and eventually not so different
trajectories tricky to calculate

don't ask me I barely know is
what I'm about making moves
keep on writing being brave

what is the larger meaning if
none you have to wonder who
moves defines the characters

Too Busy

translate me to you Mozart to music
played more than heard if no one is
listening ourselves too busy to hear

speak of speech write about words
sing "You Are My Sunshine" as if
no time passed nothing happened

propose what you desire you will
find a way home or another place
to become who you wanted to be

Try More

that's not all there is you're thinking
something but not hard enough even
if you don't know what it is try more
say it name it put it into words never
enough but better than keeping silent

Another World

thunder shovel moves blueberries twice
more promise me what you mean to do

gasping pleasure little coos at the climax
tells the story over and over over again

whisper drops on skylight fading early
clouds another world impinging on ours

Fresh Impressions

still naive not knowing even now
that history didn't start when I did
born in media res or later when I
half woke up that more was going
on than anyone admitted not here
or even here where I thought I was

said more than possibly supported
as if I knew what happened before
made me made the whole situation
my fresh impressions superficial
based in only this little protected
lucky life that happens to be me

well that is who I am I have to
work with it admiring others who
smarter braver more realistic made
happen everything I like to believe
we manifest the age the particular
angle only each can truly discover

Better Days

where is the doctor of rejuvenation I need
fresh clarity balance stamina pep the will
to weed walk keep working hours oh I'm
fine play piano better than ever but sore
fingers threaten future of that listening is
over maybe I've heard it all enough times
a slow decline in cards better days ahead

New Promises

a void in the center outlines vague
dimensionless gray no dark no light
can be erased by friendly initiative
a kiss a date new promises implied
hot chocolate to warm from within
what has no substance but the body

Even Better

all over as if immediate speed
unpacks resumes as if unbroken
love bonds reasserted smoothly
one place easy equal to another

different yet flowing together
looking for history in an alley
the ancient bricks a possibility
the perfect salad and goodbye

a while no illusion it's really
what's happening again to be
continued as if repeatable for
any ever welcome even better

Soon Enough

sleeping uneasy strange beds too flat hard
shoulders jam ache awake all hours crawl
animal life goes on dark rustling miaowing
toward home day saves just soon enough

everything done in time flowers decorate
the hall arranged teams women men lend
art music thoughtful tender loosens party
spirit each impulse suitable accommodation

I could criticize myself but no one else a
flawless cast manifesting individualities
the annular eclipse a ring to celebrate our
twenty years displaying human possibility

Palpable Love

everything that was supposed to happen did
all present playing their parts to perfection
the sky gods smiled palpable love in the air
trembling with simplicity behind all chatter
gathered to affirm Julian and Liane married

A Serious House

What was the man's name? Tannenbaum? Parsifal? No, Thannhauser. My mother took me to visit him in a serious house on the Upper East Side. On the walls were paintings by Picasso, Cezanne, Renoir, Van Gogh, many paintings by many great artists. How did she know him?

One Mode

turning natural time into stories
the mind can't stop changeable
parts click together like Legos
reiterate nothing already known

processing one mode or locus
the rest fade to inactive hidden
grope comes up empty pockets
of panic decorate this interior

a pill or natural stones deflect
invariable wiggling indifferent
rhythms just perceptible finally
fade into other people entirely

Finale

The first thing she wanted was to see my hands, which were still beautiful then, but she didn't encourage me to play her Steinway, which had just been tuned for a better pianist to play at a party she was having after I was gone. She put me in the maids' rooms, which had been luxely fixed up as a guest suite, two tiny rooms and a tinier bath off the kitchen, on the airshaft. She made me take her to a $100 dinner at a restaurant in the neighborhood, reliable but not especially good. She told me about her collection of vintage Bordeaux but didn't offer me a taste. Her kitchen had been remodeled with every convenience but nothing was cooked. She ordered in pizza, opened a bottle of something drinkable, and made me watch the finale of "Survivor."

Only Feelings

blue gloom relieved by tangible turd
facts don't matter only feelings

Anxiety

ANXIETY IS THE PRICE OF A TICKET ON THE JOURNEY OF LIFE—NO TICKET—NO JOURNEY; NO JOURNEY—NO LIFE. WE MAY RUN FROM ANXIETY AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE BUT WE THEREBY RUN FROM OUR OWN LIFE. …… WE ARE DAILY FORCED TO  CHOOSE BETWEEN DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY. THE PATH OF ANXIETY IS NECESSARY BECAUSE THEREIN LIES THE HOPE OF THE PERSON TO MORE NEARLY BECOME AN INDIVIDUAL.
—George Birimisa (1924-2012)

Real Fog

other than words is anything written
packeted segments instead real fog
seems to be blowing in but actually
forms before you think of walking
on it but there is no edge it's there
not here not usually not pea soup

Black Queen

a black queen and the four of diamonds
hidden can stop the play as if they had
power what is power the power to stop

I speed to Portland half an hour of
Alfred an hour with Adam Kate Piero
Heliczer products emerge from dark

no one knows the worth leached out
by time neglect the changing world
working toward celebrity or death

get your coat and go there's nothing
for us here strange looks as if we
were capable of another miracle

Then Found

enough to do more than what I am
not necessary unrealistic anymore
accepted real fullness completed in
active endeavor without convincing
anyone necessarily selling anything

enough budgets meetings speeches
in silence will be my way forward
remembering when I lived on East
Broadway before my life manifest
led on to lost wandering then found

Common Good

I'll come over then if you'll have me
piece together what I want to believe
eat the last cookie knowing you had
your share not worry about it not with
one who knows her mind what's good
for everyone knowing for themselves

it's enough to do what I do for myself
I care more about this you that other
matters take care of themselves with
a little help friends of soil of beauty
of the common good arising naturally
from within the nature of our being

Mistaken Pride

mad flowers on the pears and cherries
but the dogwood put out leaves instead

nor did I indulge in dressing up missed
fun inhibited by vanity mistaken pride

or shame the cats are perfectly sited
perform the duties their parts require

the clouds clear off the full moon pops
over the hill for us just what we needed

Merely Pain

excision of something smallish and unthreatening from my thorax is that the word why can't they make injecting anaesthetic less painful it's merely pain but still I cringe not thorax lower down not abdomen exactly mid-ribs to the side what's gone is obviously over but not unless you forget which it's impossible not to you try not to anticipate and can't remember how bad you felt only a story not like now or nights to come they too will pass no comfort at the time or escape

Sonata Form

not so serious really not that

Beethoven but the laughing

allowed for few exceptions

I can't tell my father's jokes

second movement typically

slow thoughtful emotional

relatively minor as myself

I show considerable doubt

the brisk finale has a fugue

embedded imitation figures

unrepentant thus the sonata

displays its time-worn form

Doing That

what would I be doing if I were not programmed

to be doing this after that and the other carefully

patterned full but not too leaving space for what

comes up not too much empty time a few hours

working not too hard several projects going I can

always turn to something else when energy flags

if doing the same thing with different people in a

different place were different I would be doing that

Doing Harm

glimpsed anomalies never explained

admit strangeness coexists within all

reason centers in narrow boundaries

it is a tool to grasp with one of many

fit certain dimensions only redefine

what you want to know differently

then instead of adding years subtract

for example but you didn't change

enough to reverse stop doing harm