EARLY MORNING FLIGHT Half-empty plane, hot black coffee – it takes so many peopleto keep my body soaring.I must be important, or at least not dead, and my not being dead must matter, or it wouldn’t be so sunny,and if it’s sunny because I’m not deadI must be the fulcrum, the measure of existence, the […]
there are galaxiesabove what used to be the soft spotsat the top of our heads we elongate our necksat an angletrying to take in all that neon-filled fullnessof the light-splattered cosmos it scares me – that I don’t knowwhat you’re searching for me, the same old – a flickeringof some sort, a disjointed piece […]
Zero degrees again. Midwest winters confuse loving with not leaving.Yes we are made of drifts. Yes we are made of degrees on a map of discontent. [Aluminum breath, breath of absence and alchemy, […]
The log that fell into the river went for a long swim into a hidden country where logs were the dominant culture and the trees wept as they saw their barky cousins floating home. My wife loves treesAnd criesWhen a branch breaks on 72nd Street. I don’t care whether trees come and go like soldiers […]
TEN YEARS AFTER MY MOM DIES I DANCE The second time I learned I could take the painmy six-year-old niece —with five cavitieshumming in her teeth— lead me by the fingerto the foyer and told her dad to turn up the Pretenders—Tattooed Love Boys— so she […]
IN THE PLACE OF BEST INTENTIONS
As this is not the land of ice packs
and regenerations, of spent glue guns
or antiseptic counters—since shy
reminders filter through the streets all night…
No turning back. Deep in the Utah desert now, having left one home
to return to the temple of my grandfather. I press the pedal
hard. Long behind me, civilization’s last sign—
i watch him touch him self over a screen
and pretend it is with my hands
how you pull a quiver from an arrow.
he moans and i grow jealous of the satellites.
I know forgetting myself is a good thing, the best loss.
The trees look soft in the fog’s distance, egg-colored light
all over them. Even the sheep,
The earth dries in ribs the rain has drawn on it.