when listening to someone speak
each word takes root
along the tendrils of the unsaid
a pattern emerges
branch grafted on old wood
flowers to mourn the newly dead
(May 8, 2021)
-
ways of knowing (138)
by
certainty’s a razor’s edge
pressed lightly across skin
i draw a line alongthe length of my arm
tracing a blue veina way in a way out
(May 4, 2021)
-
as the world burns (137)
by
the turn was not a turn
you saw with my eyes
I blinked it vanished
she said no it wasnot as you said
the way I knew it to be
the ragged lines spokewith stranger accents
skewed cognates
the way was onlythe way here
the sole path here
the sky clearedthe sky stormed
the rain was dry
the way here wasthe only way here
only me here now
I only knowthis language
the words come to me
by birthby chance
by god
she said yes butnot as you said
only what I said
it was the wayI knew the way
the way I said
(May 3, 2021)
-
how history begins (136)
by
maps do not speak
as vaguely blurred
vowels along riverbanks
where second cousins
two counties removed
slur to their mates
nor sift for finer
details in pap’s
bourbon tongue
(April 26, 2021)
-
forgive us this day (135)
by
“lesser christs of dim aspirations”
—Apollinaire
as an early spring front approaches
and dark clouds push across an empty sky
the first line begins the separation
from who I once was to what I’ve become
the slow dissolve from silence
into a momentary resistance
to the callow acquiescences
and the nodding submissions
imbued in these day to day devotions
this moment turns without motion
without thought as though it were
not there as though I was not ever there
as i was not the day before nor after
but only now in a field arms outstretched
the cold rain washing softly over me
(April 25, 2021)
-
Clouds Drift Apart
The moon’s still there;
look up. Happiness lies near
the ground where you stand.
(April 22, 2021)
-
neither knowing nor unknowing (#134)
by
there in the day
to day constancy
there in the grainof our tongues
as we speakeach to each
of the mosttrivial things
there is wherethe how arrives
on soft cat feetoblivious of the night
there is the storyyou said then said
along the seamsbetween dark and light
the story we heardthe story we tell
stitching our scarsalong calloused lines
one strangled knotwoven into another
an embroideryof nooses
until we’re hardenedto brittle words
which shatter allwe once were
thin crystal sliversfrom a broken glass
scattered like starsacross the floor
(April 19, 2021)
-
every day’s most quiet need (133)
by
when I wake
into the night
uncertain
of where
I am
I hear your breath
nearby
a surety
you are
still
a part
of me
(April 15, 2021)
-
palimpsest (132)
by
tension slips between
skin and flesh
as skillful as a fishmonger’s
blade slices down
the length of an eel
with one stroke
a practiced motion
without thought
like a priest at prayer
each wooden bead rolled
over fingertips in sync
with the slow muttered vowels
one patterned moment
moving toward the next
with endless patience
as the next ritual waits
for the candle to be lit
the words to flow
less with meaning
than as a balm
to still disquiet
(April 14, 2021)
-
ephemera (131)
KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA each evening
the day’s tasks
settle around you
like dust
in an abandoned house
the fire is lowthe room dark
you are worn
a ragged coat
hung upon a chair
tomorrow will differonly in its minutia
what you will have
for dinner and what
words you will say
(April 11, 2021) -
Pentecostal Ash (130)
by
within a multitude of soft tongues
a flame whispers accusations
around the kindling at your feet
and with a puff from her lips
it flourishes like angelic trumpets
curling toward a blackening sky
then soon enough
the fire fades
to a boredom
akin to sadness
it’s not there
in its absence
as sadness pervades
each need
with lackadaisical ease
(April 5, 2021)
-
what’s to be done but misunderstand (129)
by
SONY DSC with a thousand toes to step upon
scattered across the ballroom floor
he negotiates with a nonchalance
reserved for sinister seductions
each phrase she said like a rabbit
testing the air for the slightest sound
to announce the wolf’s ragged debut
yet the wolf is off in some other forest
tracking that red-caped girl and
the wind carries sounds
from some other tale as
everything we once knew
crumbles into sullen ash
(April 2, 2021)
-
like televisions in empty rooms (128)
by
at night a window becomes a mirror
where I see through my face
floating upon the glass like ghosts
outside the trees glow in moonlightI open another door and walk out
across the grass mixing my shadow
with the night’s mottled shadows
as if dark lace woven into the earth
I turn back to watch what I’ve left behind
the figures in the house move silently
from room to room like actors
rehearsing how they will say what they say
(April 1, 2021)
-
there again as if never there (127)
the rose belies death’s presence
its slow decay into transcendence
like words we almost knew
but failed to say somehow
only to be troubled for years
rehashing conversations
as if our world would change
if we could only stay on script
hearing each cue clearly without
improvisation to distract
from the offerings of love
burning upon a broken stone
as if some deity would take pity
on creatures who could create
no better god than themselves
(March 25, 2021)
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