December 21
a short eulogy for the shortest day of the year— it rained construction went on indomitably across from the hospital inchoate orderliness enviable what a job to fix something fixable
All posts tagged: city
December 20
Sending cards to cdmx it may be spring when they finally arrive if they make it at all this is not an act of faith— when was it we were last there? the sun rising over the tarmac ripe as papaya that long airport hall full of money changers mostly empty at that hour how did we get to Erica’s? how did we get anywhere? the physics of memory is the same as in dreams […]
February 28
Slow dawn over the bridge a dark gray sky that dreams of other colors, softly, dully, mirrored in the window panes of flat-faced houses perched on hills that descend precipitously into the lake, so still this morning, no trace of movement, no speedboat wake, no curl of smoke, nothing to indicate life save the houselights, so warm and abstract at this distance— the bridge span then extends into a tunnel clear passage that obscures the […]
January 4
A different kind of rain today, static, and a peculiar light cast up from the bay filtering through damp streets steel and glass a very high tide today they said- knowing what is beneath, now obscured, I can imagine it more clearly, vividly if less realistically, a strange tradeoff, and not an unwelcome one
January 3
More rain, and drowsy expectation— soon, something will happen, plans have been made, action will be taken, just not yet— the world outside remains discrete, drops on the glass each a microcosm of its own
January 2
Flood warning even the hills get treacherous side streets and alleys like tributaries water finds the fastest way or makes a way— before I would have made something of this, or tried—- now I just watch some guy out in the thick of it shouting and throwing rocks at the cars that pass by
January 1
We missed the countdown a TV delay screaming outside and the belated realization a ten second handicap on eating our grapes
May 13
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 […]
January 3
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
October 9
Oh how I love the city at night– the lights, the lights the quietest signs of life sharp against the cold air from a distance the interstate mistranslated, say a river, or a winter wind or one unending exhalation
OPTIONAL POETRY 