Blink and it’s gone the gingko bare, not golden any old tree now another bleak gray day could be any Northern city really from this low height every houseplant shoved up by the window for the the briefest glimpse of light, probably too cold and dry for the orchid but mild discomfort soft complaint that’s how you know you’re alive the crepe jasmine that never unfurls its blooms, waiting for something that never arrives, sometimes […]
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
traffic sounding almost like the tide this night spent early a couple laughs so loudly in the lobby there is nothing silence can’t magnify particularly stillness a pipe empties from the loft above even ears plugged blood courses through its vessels
Inexorable tides something like inevitable grief that will arrive in what– a day, days, weeks? Out on the coast we used to climb the sea stacks and grassy headland paths to watch the surf chew up the shore and anything else that remained below not safely nested up in barnacles and pines and is it wrong now to cooly observe a breaking from some distance– metaphorically as I couldn’t get time off and don’t want […]
OPTIONAL POETRY 