You must feel so grateful when you get home– You’d think, the way I talk big, putting out fires. But really, I mostly sift through the ashes of what once was, in front of those who knew it far better. Any comparison would be unkind, and superstition would say, unwise, but to think that way would cheapen things. As if any of us really stood a chance– all that to say when I get home […]
This pigeon could be a dove but for its dull asphalt plumage and oil-slicked neck either a proud bruise or thumbprint or defect– it could never be Aphrodite’s pet but its dolent call still seems somehow sacred having traded sky and olive for the Underworld of a parking garage– level two to be precise where the pipe leaks and no one parks in the Acheron– it doesn’t judge just paces the empty ill-lit spots and […]
In the locker room I talked with some girl from hospitality, never met her but half changed, she brought up Manny Pacquiao these days which led to a stocking feet discussion of sports and local pride, there was the Sonics but we lost them, there are the Mariners, but not those of my childhood, not even the half of them, she had a Tia who died who loved them, and then of course the Superbowl, […]
The night, still warm enough to traverse coatless, the moonlight almost enough to see by, but the old dog has gotten lost in it, circling an apple tree in the the corner of the yard, a thought’s thought, that’s deja vu, but every revolution she turns is something new, her pale fur faintly lit, she starts to come when I call but gets called back by some stronger instinct, it the scratch, she the needle, […]
A blizzard in New York, but here it’s sixty-four in January, like never before. The warm air smells, tens of neighbors wash their cars, and something is blooming against better judgement. Failed winter, alright, this is a door straight to July, a reminder of how a heart can feel, still, after dormancy that at first I thought was self-imposed
This unseasonable warmth triggers an appetite for growth, voracious circles result around the rows at Home Depot, here’s the healthiest foliage, here’s a charity case, the names seduce, Caladium, coleum, lemon, firesticks– all for inside though. March here is two-faced, February not even worth mentioning, so one cultivates a life indoors, re-learns caring, waits for spring as a new leaf unfurls, revealing itself as such.
We don’t know what kitty wants just registered the shift in tone a lost child crying in the hallway at night now asserts its rights but the under -current is assailable, very much an ask. Held, a hiss rises from the deep, this is not the need, not food, not water, now even the spaniel’s eyes, those limpid pools of kindness, are starting to show alarm.
It’s not a decision to see my breath turn to cloud. It’s not my decision to breathe, although I know some, now, who have made that call— Coldest are the nights with stars, halos round the moon, clinical beauty, precise and piercing— You say it’s a matter of choice. I say, take whatever warmth you can get, for as long as you can get it– always darkest before the dawn hinges heavily on assumption
[Posthumous] Lilac streaks this sunrise against the dusky mountain the floor moves on with plans for discharge or work for the M.E. it does get lighter earlier now I panic in traffic thinking I’m late staring at the mountain and what does late even mean if not that we take so much for granted
Speaking of birds some thumbed the air between the dawn and the plastic cover of my headlights it must have been this morning and the right side of the road which is technically the orientation for both going and coming here but all I remember is the shape of the birds decidedly not bird-like beading up in feathery condensation coursing across my field of vision gray and fluid and seemingly wingless bushtits maybe the tiniest […]
OPTIONAL POETRY 