Camel, dromedary. Sure, a poem but why? Even taxonomy is too pliant for you. Extinct or extant. If a line drawn in the sand is too soft then what use are words that build and fall to gently say no desert no life begins or ends precisely. It is a collection of inconstant and inconsistent forms that slump or shift at best against what confines them. Naming things is such an act. Bactrians have one […]
Today a hummingbird hemming the courtyard corners, hail from slate skies, sun falling in heavy bars, the crack shot drop of a dead branch in the distance, all this wind, if not harbingers, still precisely sounded tones, probably worth noting
The camillas are all blooming now from the bottom up like they truly don’t care this month still manages to be unexpected warmth or hailstorms no middle ground lessons abound here I’m sure
More doors are closed now in the hospital patients sequestered behind glass scrawled on with O2 sats a menagerie of respiratory failure such an artificial habitat- beyond the windows the mountain is out austere white margins suspended above the horizon by unlit foothills what a sunrise today– everyone was talking about it neon pink as the surgical masks our buyer found somewhere although with each minute the blockprint fades into just a day like any […]
This morning however is unexceptional muffled gray hardly a birdcall just some souped-up car passing at a distance and all the racket of an otherwise silent house—- mysterious humming and draining that never gets noticed or questioned—- the subtle menace of the benign
Another bright day clear and cold as the sunlight is warm— Not to be begrudge this reciprocity or any— I get giddy climbing these impossible hills fully blinded, imbued by this particular winter sun, always coming in at high unexpected angles and intervals, falling in bars or like some ornate curtain to make any scene pastoral— orderly, quiet, serene, immutable— if only for a few hours, still, more than acceptable
The promised rain has been detained the day is just still with little anticipation for such a non-event, and one that arrives so innocuously— the thinking that nothing much will change in a mild spring rain by a veil of drops but of course it will— everything is touched, the sidewalk’s sheen, the gingko’s green, the clipped walking pace of the few passerbys outside the window, distant and distant, twice removed— the rain fills the […]
A gap between gingko leaves suggests a bird— between real things impressions, for better or for worse— what makes space negative? Is it the color of the sky, what is defined, or what falls behind, and is it intentional?
All night in a box of light geometric cradle of office buildings windows still lit— why? they obscure the sky replace the stars above quiet streets full rivers of pavement at mostly right angles— you are the only company I keep in these hours and your hunger, and your cry— I expand to fill each need the broken boundaries of sleep the velvet darkness of this room this makeshift nursery I watch you for as […]
Rose dawn, pepto bismol energizer bunny and funny sorts of clouds– Friday as surrealist unseasonably warm the honey sun combing the alleys between the hospitals and methadone clinics trash in the street gold imbued shards of life or skeins, more mobius-like going on and on and on
OPTIONAL POETRY 