Friday, March 28, 2003

did you think... i had half a chance... no...

the growing time left him smaller than the others...

some essential nutrient... deprived of.. he was...

so under cover of night he steps... into gray buildings

that shine from the inside like oysters... and there he finds

enough of what had been withheld... so you see...

he says... i can print my sleep... my dance...

and cover my sadness with these perfect hands



when breaking becomes a habit, remember the beaches and the mountains where time has always pulled everything into a necessary shape, a shape we can all agree is beautiful even when our broken parts fall from us along the shore or along the trail... and this reminds us of the ritual scouring of souls who tiptoe towards rebirth without wings or gills


Thursday, March 27, 2003

i'm not talking to anyone... not to you... not to

the troglodyte drooling over your shoulder... says

air for everyone... eyes for the willing... then

sputters up into the trees like a sick bird's buddy...

never underestimate the horrors of spring



a sugar curtain... spider-spun sunlight
drops down urgently over our mistake

we hadn't fully considered
what the papers would say when they heard

about the whistling and the eyes...
but finally an airship lumbers through the night

dragging hope like a weary flag
into the desert dream you sent us from the deep end



the bad writing will not say... or cannot

so something else takes over...

a will to significance upends our complacency...

a better day... floating dumb as facts

three inches above the desk... unleashes a fury...

a clamor among the professors of literature



Wednesday, March 26, 2003

said pathos... it dribbles... inexcusably...

we will turn away... then give them time...

to compose themselves... as they say

nothing comes of these bits dropped

impishy here... between commercials



when you go we become ideas... thin and sultry...

consoling each other with sighs and television...

you hear us... at first... but then time and distance

replace that motion with a standard part...

the memory of how we wore shoes and took turns

holding the umbrella... slips to a general portrait...

less like a hologram than an old laptop... drowning



Tuesday, March 25, 2003

could you push a little harder to make it something...

no question lacks answers... still... some doors are best left open...

you know... i had your interests in mind when...

i mean... there's nobody i'd rather irritate... are you as tired as i am tonight...



nothing came back from the sky... after the stone flew up

nothing came back... but we had an idea that took us

from there... and found us selling windows... a lot of emptiness... a concept...

three of us... despising the work... began to eat dirt... without shame



he wanted a wall of granite set up here beside the pool...

then money became a problem and he lost his will to build... any further...

so light splintered back there... and desire twisted into a...

wistful credulity... that some things are not worth waiting for...

when there's so much... already... to repair



Monday, March 24, 2003

rain said... open up a door... make a way

for a teaching... break open these sour questions...

verify next of kin... something hard is coming down...

something certain... and cold... notify...

tell us now... tell us while our eyes can know...

before some hurt squeaks down from the roof...

ok... here it is... a wise bird builds... no matter



emphasize the view from where any one of us may be sitting

tell them about a sun moving slowly up or down

making colors big enough to notice finally

pretend everyone is happy here because we alone

have money and stomach to buy what needs buying

show the chroma-print brochure of reeds by the shore

everyone loves reeds by the shore and they will too



accept that nothing comes from your hands...

accept the price... suddenly... all of this advice

will grind you up... convince you... there's fun

for the desert when soldiers roll in... a topic...

a definite topic... pursue it with diligence...

wet newsprint fingers know... a certain delight

before bedtime... sends us to dream a fire garden...

you dream next... we will gently hum it to you



Sunday, March 23, 2003

tell us you have something to tell us... then

watch us pretend that we love the ballet... that

opera thrills us to our toes... no... better

to sit still... eyes open and unblinking... ears capable...

pulse slow and steady... lulled by that urgent voice...

perfect for serious moments like this... we are yours...

what did you say... you said what... we thought you said



Saturday, March 22, 2003

come out into night... fill up darkly...

answer his question before you hear it...

sink down to rocks and rubble... then

draw what you tasted... a siren... a solemn

duty to address the problem... go

turn its round edges square... take off some clothing

before getting it all wrong... falling down

becomes an acceptable strategy... keep doing it



fool doesn't get it... hands me a beer

when i don't want a beer.. i want a horse

that lets me up easily onto his hard leather...

from where i can see the horizon... smoke signal...

injuns in this cartoon... nation... might they

let me join the tribe... i stretch so tall in the saddle

to see... how they might smile and wave me on...



carefully... tepid in the afternoon glare...

walk around the craters... understand

that we have nothing better to do... than

approve of this... political action under

a luxuriant bomb flower plot... o dear...

it comes to teaching again... what had been

forgotten again... on purpose



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