so we go on
fumbling down
the trail
in the dark
our hands fall
on rough bark
and we look up
beyond the dark leaves
somewhere
above the trees
the moon flows quietly
unseen behind clouds
(from Sonnet, a Renga, 2011-2012)
-
storm surge
hatred and anger share the couch feedingeach other bon-bons of bile and resentmentwhile they remain in reality smallwith each bite they grow exponentiallyuntil the force they exude coats evenin the corners of the shelves with a sharpacidic green the porcelain knick-knackswhich scream to be broken repeatedlyacross the tile floor until walking outwould serrate our feet to bloody stumpsbefore we could reach for solace outsidewithin the cold redemption of dissolutionthe room awaits the storm’s abatement andthe waves’ astringent purge crashing ashore(September 12, 2013) -
why write
to breach the surfaceof languageflying above the cuspof wordsI otherwise drown within* * *to feed the darka night trawlernets the depths* * *like a fish in airmouthing wet wordsI cannot speakany moreto you* * *to lay near herafter a kissas skin brushes skinlike whispered sighs(September 10, 2013) -
28. I Worry Too Much
July 13, 1995I worry too much, pulling into a ball,a mental fetal position, rigid and fragile.My strength is bound within like roots,twisting hands beneath the ground.Slowly, I unfurl each strand liftingmy tree from river bank to sky.(from My Book of Changes, 1994-1996) -
Hunger
by
from troubled sleepI wake and turnto find solacein the warm curveof your skinthen rise and head downthe stairs to findthe fruit you broughtfor us to eatlast nightI open a slitbeneath the soft fuzzand pull the pliant skinuntil the peeled peachlies slick between my fingerswith my thumb tip
I slip the hard centerslowly from the ripe fleshlike a monk’s headfrom under a cowluntil the juice flowsfreelyacross my handand I take that firstdelicate bite(September 8, 2013) -
aphasia
by
I repeatmyself becauseI’m oldand cannotremember ifwhatI saidwaswhatI saidif more wasexpectedyet notprovidedand whyit shouldnothave beenunexpectedof meto saythose wordsagainto you(September 7, 2013) -
Communication Problem
by
the mannered exchangesthe polite inquiriesto health and hearththe words and smileswe dance betweenlike rain upon the streetthe social intercourseof hand to handchat and greetbastions sincerityinto muffled silenceto preventits sharpened teethfrom slashing fine linesalong the throatsof each personthat we meet(September 5, 2013) -
43. The Unsaid
by
July 9, 1995The unsaid shouts out its silencebeneath the chatter of conversation;the keel determines the speed,the rudder the boat’s direction.That which can go unsaid often does.“I listen to the whispers beneath your words.”(1994-1995, from My Book of Changes) -
Pantaloon
by
she wrotegeneric notesinfusedwith a meaninghe readyet was nottherewithinher words(September 4, 2013) -
dispersal
by
and thenshe’s goneas ifshe werenever herelike leavesdancing quietlyjust beforeyou turnback again(September 4, 2013) -
scraps of other’s memories
kodak snapshotsof familiar peopleI do not knowin blurred spaceslike my owngathered withinlived livesnot unlike minesmiling posedaround dinnertables adornedwith holidayconvivialitywaiting to belost and forgottenfor me to findand rememberfor us all(September 3, 2013) -
my life
in conversationat tablewith friendsstrangers welcomedwine flowsglasses clinkwords weavebetweenwarp and woof(from Sonnet, a Renga: 2011-2012) -
(breath)
by
the air forms to your bodywithout effortI breathe you in(from Sonnet, a Renga, 2011-2012)
