Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Adding And Subtracting

It all adds up
even inside the cavern
I polish and polish
until it's a mirror
and my mind
a furry creature
comforting me
with low growls

The subtracting
counts backwards
each step is measured
in clock time
illuminating the inside
of this large capacity

Monday, March 27, 2017

Big Show

To be fair hauling around the swish
sheen led thoughts and looking in the mirror
at the dish-faced animal
will be haunting me
for thousands

Time hangs around
waiting to be noticed
I hear its impatience

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Four Corner Madness

Once I was lost out there on my turquoise bike
looking for the buttes which were not to be seen
on the horizon there wasn't any and that was when
I was truly lost for a few hours in the dark and rain
now I know this is over by where a new path runs
right along the boulevard that bike long gone from
when I worked at the deli and some goons took it
ran it over in their car for fun them and their losers

It is not my home but I've tried to make it homey
with primroses in front of our door along with sage
lavender and a rose that does not do well although
it should the smell of the river and blossoms
driving me nearly mad each time I step outside
because that is where home announces itself
no matter which part of town there is dogwood
maybe daffodils have a scent it is mostly willows

Friday, March 24, 2017

Each Spot

A different spot so let me record it
already thinking of how they raised me
to be knowing them
so how would this be if I call out
hear their small answering
in leaves in scratches
along the cave wall

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Already Sad

Sad love gone to sadness in the day
Night strange for wanting happiness
Around each corner even the library
Edges and corners especially the breezy exit
Where someone keeps passing
Monitoring every move
peace with breathing and breath
Didn't this happen so many times before?
What makes it different now?

Monday, March 20, 2017

Moving The Myrtle Aside

The great verbs of the sea
Chime into our conversation
days and their rust
what hands can hold
What shoulders can bear

In the cozy spaces noir
Really means the world
of eclipse of noticing the light

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Wasn't Old

More than a thousand miles
Four hundred meters twice

husky that celebration
pajama a bowl of fruit

We escaped with our lives
Out of the icy neighborhood

Please clap someone please clap
Value and that takes guts

Stepping down and taking over
In the first place next season

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Short Term

Tiny buildings made of paper and wood
Foam core cuttings
A penny
Quarters I save then forget about
All piled in the dumpster
There is no argument
Dog hair looking like
There is a lot to clean up
Make it Sauber would you
Could you do this all again?

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Daemmerung: Plan Oblique

"A" is the only choice
Plan B quite well known
but then there is this one
which is not a choice at all

Sunday, March 12, 2017

My Reckless Moment

Geometric shadows informed my night
Mezzanine so dim except for the studios
Their color wheels were aching to be touched
to be put out of their misery

But not by yours truly I am no patsy
Yes I see it was all a set-up and even now
There is no right no wrong in this world

I reached for the glass for the windows
my hand wrapped in a saturated cloth

My motions were quite usual
they were psychotic
round and around
up and down

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Altogether Elsewhere

the planet turns toward their fur soft bristles full of dust and grease short shine short life on long legs we ate the rice pies shaped like shoes small canoes or leaves much concern about the rugs about the mill and the dock where Seija and I swam I studied their hands summers gripping wood buckets of berries and mushrooms

Friday, March 10, 2017

I Will Kill

The messy Crasin eater has left the building but those sticky somethings tell me nothing more about the cement Put away your condolences night is ever interesting under investigation my heart getting fooled Some say they are looking others know what they found I am not telling the shadows underneath fluorescence

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Strings Of Desire

I wrote my poem and said my bit there was lots of backfire burning down torches I kept lighting and letting the wind get to them those Ravens they all call crows went back up to their nests their roosts and I held onto an egg I cracked it open one hand like I had been reading about a heavy stone from the Columbia now where I can get to it real quick the pocket of my vest so surprising that picture of the light strings weaving electricity into the sky

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Something Tells Me

I left the bucket in another place Mop all alone but knowing what was next So what if I forgot the gum spray And the putty knife The lab doesn't deserve The white linoleum so difficult to turn your back Under the circumstances

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Silver Sax

I listened as much as I could until it was good and over with but still the feeling did not leave worse yet that idea wasn't even one I could tell about much less describe how to include pillows and wool blanket into the scene So I could finally understand where all this was leading

Thursday, March 2, 2017

With Nothing To Say

I listen to the train It will speak for me I listen to the partridge To the day and day's ending On into the night and into ecstasy Of the routine slightly changing

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Back To Now

The buildings showed her the timeless night Punctuated by the train offering its run its run-on Sentences its lack of punctuation because it was A dash a euphemism A metaphor in its noise She heard and sometimes didn't until it was Long gone mostly South and into the next county Where there is less but more winter more foothills Please know there are lines here just listen