Monthly Archives: November 2016

Conversations (III)


Conversations (III)

You can send me fractions.
The shattered pagoda of memory blasts

Back into place and the splinters
Spiral into a soft round kiss.

We’re half shade and half sun
And never fully half, holding

A hymn hands can’t tear
To pieces, or sing solely.

Conversations (II – to a headache)

Conversations (II – to a headache)

You promise you will never leave me.
All day I have been trying to locate grief

And all day you have been trying to convince me
Grief and pain are the same.

If grief leaves me I will know
I have lost something vital to happiness.

So keep your promise and leave
The one I love. I’ll keep you here on call

Like a substitute teacher outside
An empty room you’ll never see.



I slept but did not dream.
I woke with eyes of sand.
I smelled the knives of fear.
I held one in my hand.

The week could not be said.
The words taut in their bows.
I slept but did not dream.
The fly is on the rose.

The frost is on the wheels.
The visors are pulled down.
The streets are on their knees
The rainbow’s on the ground.

The thumbtack of the sky’s
Not blue as it once seemed.
A blur that once went by.
I’ll sleep but will not dream.

Left handed poem by newspaper editor on eve of election

Left handed poem by newspaper editor on eve of election

My right hand is already sleeping in a dream of your hand
I look the final hour through today’s glasses

So I can focus on the details waving like grass in a wind
Of glass, the wind’s larger motion a single word

(yet the wind wants to join my hand in a dream of form
The shape of our bodies weaving a word that won’t

Come back to me) the day turns like your back
(it may never come back) and the new day wanders

In like a cat out of the dark which always means yes
As if hunger were affirmation and not direction