Spaced Apart

not alone but spaced apart
each contending with what
cannot be communicated

and even if it were nothing
could be done to spare us
mortal suffering solitude

inner being our only hope
shared in loving tenderness
exchanged across the abyss

Thought Form

years of love and creativity go on
pausing hesitant but not stopping
no general arc of brilliance and
decline applies no empty decades
wondering what to do next as if
everything had already happened
or wasn't going to wrong thought
form works keep arising anyway

Careful Breathing

amid further smoke the swim
is spared the lasered shoulder
is not strained nor fails in use
instead we stay inside careful
breathing shallow in the shade
grateful not to live in Houston
counting on a clearing breeze

Just This

s my mind mine
or just a typical manifestation

the little dog has personhood
but I am just this

Letters

too hot to think or write letters
but I love to hear from people
and sooner or later write back

am I really still who I am if
so what can I do about it now
before it's too late to enjoy it

Line-Dance

language erases the user
as words are everyone's
they may mean anything
you imagine or nothing

referencing Barthes does
little to elucidate what
they whisper privately
offering ecstasy unseen

translation their essence
their line-dance recalls
a music not yet heard
an intimation of oneself

Digging In

no gym too tired after pulling
grass digging stubborn weeds
after unexpectedly digging in
old writing needing finishing
in order to go on to what new
arises in beautiful open space
instead I have made granola

Larger Story

history rules and you don't know it
at the time you think you are making it up
if you only examined the circumstances
you would see but you don't want to know
you want to take a chance as if starting new
as if your choices determine what happens
meanwhile the larger story is emerging
and you have played your little part

Willing Ears

if music could do what it promises
even when it does it too soon ends

delight in shape and pattern in time
kinetic pleasure of sustaining sync

emotion without confusing reality
people complicating circumstance

demonstrating superhuman skills
in the service of divine inspiration

formations in mind's luminous air
sustain an alternative way to be

elevated open to all willing ears
and then it passes leaving no mark

More Trouble

how come I know better than the President
that stirring up more trouble between India
and Pakistan isn't going to help them or us

Too Hard

who will know the meaning to me
connections too hard to explain and
no one would care the way I care
even if I spelled it out in full detail

anyway you wouldn't want to know
you have your own invisible web
requiring continuous close attention
so the meaning is fresh and strong

we can't express our actual selves
only show a mutual understanding
imagine stories that constitute an
artful alternate image to ring true

All Ready

cosmic coincidence coming
as orbs hot and cold whirl
around their orbits toward a
highly improbable recurrent
rendezvous with us tiny lucky
humans all ready for totality

No Demand

this is not work but play
so I can do it even if I am
not working for a change

plenty of time my motto
knowing it will suddenly
end no demand for haste

I could have done more
if I had tried harder but
did what I wanted to do

it's enough if I say it is
anything more is extra
I do it because I like to

After Exercise

itching knees and elbows after exercise
accompany a stillness that feels unique

singing crickets man voices on the radio
hold me suspended in the car I open the

window enter air time stops or doesn't
matter anymore whether I go in or not

don't scratch doesn't matter either I do
or another day comes as soon as it can

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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