“sadness of those unschooled in the bottles’ gloom”
–Rene Char, Poets
Tonight, I hold my shape
tenuously, like a rabbit,
tense, on the edge
of a field: hold tight
in silence, or flee
into the brush?
(January 22, 2020)
quandary
Category: sentence
A Thin Arrogance
As if I have anything
to say, I ponificate
more than I listen;
a silent skull one
assumes is laughing.
(July 18, 2019)
A Gleaner Dons a Disguise
From bits she left behind,
he pieces himself together:
thousands of shards sifted,
then rearranged to form
fused-glass mosaics
into patterned fascimiles
others easily recognize.
(July 18, 2019)
The Army
from “Change,” a work in progress
Poetry, like dark earth,
contains my strength.
(January 24, 2019)
Desire’s the First Motion
I cannot stop
thinking: thought
takes tangent
from thought
like traces
of bubble chamber
particles, arcs
spin angles skew
to the intent
as if even
a tendency
toward a line
could be maintained
for any strand
to cohere.
(January 6, 2018)
tentative
with no cautious
humility
to amend
he steps lightly
through his
incompetence
as if there
were
some place safe
where he could
escape who
he has become
(September 29, 2018)
wicker man
first bits
then fragments
fall away
like branches
on fire
crack off
until
wholly ash
which wind then
wisps to air
adrift
incorporeal
a spirit singing
in each breath
(August 9, 2018)
