as if physics, theoretical
downhill on the slope
no good faith
equations here
just step in
the hole
you didn’t dig
but why did you?
September 4
Normal order
Common decencey
nouns that lean heavily
on their moderators
an unfortunate
depenency
civility
servility
still a distinction
still at long last
sir at long last
or I guess not
September 1
The sky now the correct gray–
sea-derived, the summer’s fires
gone out, the focus
turning slowly inward,
like a tide returning,
an impartial action,
attribute to it
whatever you’d like,
it won’t attach
and it won’t last
and that is some sort
of beautiful–
every night a blank page.
The gingko starts to shiver
August 19
the sun pale milky
a dead fish eye
obscene sclera
the sky wan
as weak excuses
empty platitudes
mornings start out tired
and degrade from there
this pastel more opaque
than you’d think
displacement of clarity
can’t see known things
all day a grainy sad sunset
sore-throated atonement
the wind made corporeal
and punishing
August 11
Even the question marks start to look
like contour lines—
how good are you with a compass
and map? Just when
can you call a place familiar?
Does your stomach also drop
when you step off
the trail and make your own alone
across faceless rocks?
Not in fear per se
more weightlessness
in walking away
from the final constraint
and either way
is that choice still immediate
or is it blunted by practice?
And did you follow the fall line
into the big green subconscious?
The mind wanders farther
than legs ever could
First entry into what is actually a fairly long-standing series AKA Poems that have been rejected by Rattle…
August 8
The sun becomes
a scarlet wafer
just before
it dips into the lake
and starts to dissolve
and stars
shine through
the theadbare night
one unified light
made piecemeal
too hot to sleep
when dreams arive
they come on fire
from across the water
that doesn’t disclose
if it is deep or shallow
July 29
at the sharp end of the day,
the month, waiting
for a return, a word,
a small fly traces
a halo for my head,
the open window drawing
no breeze, heat
settles heavily,
I wave it away
absentmindedly,
small ripples
around a fixed point,
barely any light left
now, the first stars,
always up there,
it’s just that night
removes that doubt,
and instills others
July 20
Eight-oh-eight in Encinitas
surfers hold their place
like knots in a net
the chipped tooth moon
the boldness of Jupiter
night comes humid and velvet
and matte
the ocean
all and always the ocean
even upstairs in the small
corner room
with its small open window
even in this heat
already half asleep
as the train rankles
cicadas and the coming dark
July 15
Clearer up North
still these birch trees
abandon symmetry
to grasp at the sun
water in the canyon
quick with runoff
winter’s remainder
and that same
low angle
of sun that makes
a forest live
but later now
these hours stretch open
like a safety net
July 12
heart of the city
cracked asphalt
like fire’s detritus
it had to be hotter than
they said it was
feeling the heat
even now late
the air crackles
against faceless glass
infinite expansion
manifest destiny
new construction
no heart no love
in the man-made canyon
voiceless only noise
a bottle crushed under tires
a snapping metal wire
until a man speaks
from his rooftop
only five stories up
leans over
and says this
this is nothing
I’m not even afraid
OPTIONAL POETRY 