June 28
it’s a bitter root that twists deep into the dirt the dark gestalt of things unspoken and so retained rehearsed in lonely moments
All posts tagged: night
June 20
surprising, the sun today surprising, the sunset dramatic on the rooftop suffused, cinematic and people being kind genuinely good it makes the worse worse the same way presence augments absence the news is so bad the night so beautiful long long notes from bitter -plucked strings
March 9
It has been a while and it will be a while more still awake waiting to watch an hour disappear shouldn’t be it’s late and getting later or earlier wherever you draw the line however you define it looking through your photos to know a thing to have to hold it it must be late to be thinking still about distance
December 5
With each night the question grows more pronounced curving around like a road a sharper turn than expected headlights only reaching so far forward motion the only certain thing
November 23
the rain eased up the cold persisted holiday evenings and not enough chairs hey so when are you…? a battery of questions some blunted by the years some softer, owing to wisdom, knowing what not knowing for years means a bridge washed out a road not finished even yes can mean no when prized out like a stuck door unburdened by solace by desire it isn’t speakable so just smile too widely turn one’s attention […]
November 20
If not resentment what then? Tomorrow a sulking rain. Even without an action premonition of motion premeditated carelessness a glance might linger or it might be furtive but like a glancing blow it also lands
October 11
Crescent moon mostly a shadow mostly nothing absence of light each night listening for the voice hearing it wishing I hadn’t– the matte of lack having plenty but just not that– the rest is black but this silver sliver shiny as promise pulling like desire like a hook through the mouth
September 28
At first the quiet like a balm the calm eye of a storm but it, too, turns evenings like cupped palms all that they might hold what prescribes dread instead of hope it gets darker earlier turning in this cave of a world and still no word
September 19
lost a bit too easy to float in a darkened room eyes adjusting static, snow falling on the ceiling there are so many tones of silence this one aches hollow as a bird bone this down comforter is heavier it’s the air trapped between feathers that warms flight light but more parachute or net for falling upwards?
September 10
It is an active quiet low jets in their final approaches cars accelerating all departures the lights in the half-finished tower go out in blocks goodnight, goodnight the muffled bassline of some song in passing the man-made geometries of light against a matte black night no moon, no stars just the bright cascade of glass bottles into the bin behind some bar the city full of emptiness expanding out like a lung
OPTIONAL POETRY 