The day after the day leaving in the early dark the radio DJ playing soft songs to ease the hangovers even the broken rhythm of the rain is subdued. I dreamed you wrote to say that a tsunami almost got you I should really probably write you back and everyone else it’s just hard to grasp that these daily dull laps might seem comforting to someone who isn’t so weighted in place, so yes I’m […]
Venice, again. I had forgot the earrings I bought there and then lost, one after the other, maybe too careless with things, but never with feelings. I remember them, clear as the Adriatic, and it’s raining there while it’s raining here, and just how many places has this rain been? Counting the same place more than once, of course, as no place ever stays the same.
And just like that the ocean recedes, it got so close but spread itself too thin, and now returns to its silent, sunless depths. Silence. Eventually, the bear becomes balm, the bite of alone grows toothless— too well known. You wrote to me in words of loss, I haven’t yet found a reply— but agree we should get back out on the water, soon, that is, unless you’ve had your fill of straddling two worlds— […]
Here is a progression of leavings: leaving too late and with the wrong person, leaving too late, leaving at the correct time, still with the wrong person, leaving alone, leaving too soon, leaving before coming, that is, not going at all, which is forgoing going through motions, could be forestalling, but what could have been in time gets outweighed by all that was, or wasn’t–
The sun’s still out, is this fog or smog? Something fell, perhaps a cloud to Vermeer up the landscape. Can’t be sure of anything here, the interstate spanning the valley now floats high on condensing vapor. A growing thought, a blue-eyed wonder, sticks around under the soft chambray sky, the day refusing to cede to the night, and so this caprice lingers longer, too
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
OPTIONAL POETRY 