Suffering Flesh

are these raspberry thorns embedded
in my suffering flesh the little ones
too fine to see until they get infected

don't tell me you don't know respect
we say what we mean even if we
don't know what it is why do I bother

you are here with me even when you
are somewhere else not me I stay
where I am and face the future here

Carry On

some days go better than others
we both know that but carry on
cheerfully even with afflictions
acknowledge which body parts
are failing now and go on doing
what we like to do our "work"
carefully punctuated with rests
balancing lapses with rewards
outside in come home to love

Actual Birthday

was this yesterday or today
or next Tuesday the actual
birthday anyway hooray we
eat well converse adore the
moon in all her many moods
this one mellow as can be

Still Alive

I forget to remember
what I prefer to forget

not that I renounce it
unrecoverably done

do not judge my past
I did what I could

mistakes hesitations
and some good moves

whole decades escape
empty of their fullness

here I am still alive
thinking I know it all

Showing Off

two more Mozart sonatas errors
hidden by the violin I can't hide
it is virtually a piano concerto if
only I could read music faster
Mozart's finesse delectable if
you play like him exactly right
what fun it would be to see him
frolicking shamelessly showing off
crafting exquisite solutions to
questions only he could ever ask

One Time

it only matters at the time
and yet leads to something

it mattered mainly because
it led to what happens now

you must embrace paradox
see with eyes of two times

one time always is this the
other all you can remember

and then there is the future
what will you make of that

These Days

everything starts early
I am up for it squeeze
more in than needed

gradually up to speed
time linked only later
readiness in waiting

anticipate pleasures
breakfast a workout
work reading solitaire
­
pick raspberries make
jam against the winter
these days still linger

Open Hearts

let beauty return open up
the mind's eye don't give in
to crass commercialism and
creeping suburbanization so
what if there's no place to go
to get away from temporary
conditions you can't stand

bring beauty back return
the many favors of the past
otherwise dreary situations
saved by flashes of bright
joy simple pleasures abound
natural processes unfolding
all around our open hearts

Imaginary Places

settings from dreams a huge
loft-like high-ceilinged room
from novels Saint-Malo 1944
Robert Heide's Key West are
as much where I am as here
our usually pretty farmyard
stunned by heat and drought
smoke trapping us inside for
now I need imaginary places
complete with companions
I am entirely free to enjoy

Two Days

remind me again what was it
card shuffler newest Franzen
anything you desire Amazon
can have to you in two days
if you want to wait that long
otherwise you're out of luck
stuck with the same old stuff

Plum Jelly

hot night over the hot stove
make plum jelly and granola
simultaneously boiling jars
the works never sit down

cooler days ahead then hot
again zero rain in prospect
what an exaggerated summer
none like it ever before

I Sweat

this isn't hot India
and Iraq are hot it's
hotter than usual I
sweat but so what
it could be worse

and probably will
be hotter than this
hazier and smokier
I hope you realize
this is our world

This Kind

imagine living in L.A. say
or Hanoi would I still be me
are not my chickens studio
household chores the essence

I am this kind of person now
small town character though
alien thinking big city thoughts
as I water weed sweep and mow

Catching Up

the future is at least as predictable as the past
most of your plans go off without a hitch but
what follows later is unknowable similarly
you know what you did but not the context
what others did when you weren't there what
they felt or even thought about it your own
thoughts and feelings entirely confused what
they meant and why you overreacted it was
simpler than you imagined still oddly strange
your own part not always what you meant

even what actually happened each must say
and all of them are dead and left no record
my memory certainly not reliable fragments
of stories told too often to myself and others
pared down to almost nothing and that vague
if not untrue my life not experienced as facts
but webs of circumstance and physicality in
action with others past and future changing
before we are anywhere near catching up

Too Late

arrangements are made then
circumstances change what
are you supposed to do then
no one likes change until it
happens when it is too late

or something else entirely
might offer an alternative
if you are open to it do it
no one is in control but you
can make some adjustments

or go with the flow and hope
history doesn't catch you out
fleeing for life with nothing
choice of no place one of
millions of surplus humans

Lucid Mind

if dreams were stories
and I could remember
I'd have a rich supply
whenever so inclined

instead I use the real
whims of lucid mind
inspired by anything
self-evident in word

make up characters
implying activation
in affective speech
doing as they must

they are myself as
much as I imagine
I am someone else
dreaming if awake

Part of Me

me doesn't stop even reading
a book by Haruki Murakami
I keep thinking of later my
hands keep itching the cock
crows the dog barks I hear
the town start up its machinery

what is it for this constant
sensory thinking must I go on
like this every day and night
forever is as long as I'm alive
even sleeping part of me is
still at it ready to be awake

Saying Less

if I am awake I must be dreaming
my feet enormous deep the chair
if I am asleep I'll write about that
accommodating everything I hear
without differentiation or despair
since I am somewhere in between
consider giving everything away
saying less playing music more

Country Life

Monpou's seductive harmonies die away
the frogs are heard again summer's flow
carries us forward in timely harvesting
grape juice jarred cherry tomatoes frozen
pears picked green to ripen in the house
and everything else ripening in its time
we are part of it embodying country life

Before Bed

if I could figure out what I almost know
I'd be as badly off as the poor prisoners
in the book I don't dare read before bed
everyone striving to survive and thrive
make sense of what happens to them it's
hard to think I know what hard can be
too late to do much about avoiding it or
sparing the world much more of the same

Perfect Resolution

what the notes mean proven
by the cadence can I think
that clearly without the keys

precisely when to say what
for maximum effect bring
perfect resolution of doubt

if I practiced more I might
save the world by rhythm
harmony none could resist

Turn Away

random input even here
where nothing happens

if it bothers turn away
attraction is more rare

I tell you what I dare
without embarrassing

Catching Up

goodbye to the coherent story
news we all can agree is good
premonitions of same disaster
picks us off one tree at a time

goodbye to what one expected
life means something else now
the numbers against continuity
anticipate our fate catching up

goodbye acting in the present
tension yielding to acceptance
what happens is what we are
touch it taste it believe in it

Hidden Regrets

secret worries hidden regrets
for others' foreseen mistakes
inexpressible observations
true but useless thwarted love

As It Is

disabled email anything can happen
without my knowing suddenly silent
like others before and after function

what to do when I can't do anything
just being is enough if I don't insist
expression seldom noticed as it is

A Clutter

now is when it happens
leaving a clutter in the living room
kitchen which I karmically clean up
their rooms unbreachable

then they will be gone
another summer gone with them
back to the city for homework dancing
lipstick giggles still enjoyed

indulge it while it's going on
because later it will be only memories
fading into generalities other years
the same and inexorably changing

Next Line

the blinking cursor patiently waits
there not there then there again
and so on for as long as you like

I like putting something there
as it moves it almost disappears
then waits for me on the next line

everything possible will happen
the word once said remains said
interesting if true frequently not

I try to be worthy of the void
allow the good stuff to fill it up
know its emptiness will remain

What I've Been Reading

"We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves: a Novel" by Karen Joy Fowler
"'Our Kind of Movie': The Films of Andy Warhol" by Douglas Crimp
"Dissident Gardens" by Jonathan Lethem
"Can You Forgive Her?" by Anthony Trollope (aloud)
"How to Be Both" by Ali Smith
"The Soundscape" by R. Murray Schafer
"V." by Thomas Pynchon (part)
"Happy All the Time" by Laurie Colwin
"Station Eleven" by Emily St. John Mandel
"Li Ho Reflux Tour 2003" by Mark Sargent
"Arts and Entertainments" by Christopher Beha
"Orfeo" by Richard Powers
"Memoirs of Hecate County" by Edmund Wilson (part)
"The Wallcreeper" by Nell Zink
"Tropic of Cancer" by Henry Miller
"The Making of Zombie Wars" by Aleksandar Hemon