Intaglio
Those tender leaves
worn as earrings,
his eyelid closes and remembers,
are these leaves closing across the broad avenues
on a drive by the shore, sunshine off the lake's silver
another face of Hermes' coin, a dream of passage into a thaw
So what he thought was rain in spring is snow
covering rocky graves open in the fields of poppies
and the river propelled forward by its filaments of fish
is her memory twinned with now and now of a drowning pulse.
My Poems
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A Transcription*
Truth
Ends without punctuation
....
Things are Simply gone
People try to glorify It
Hot, still, barren
....
Ask for nothing & it all comes to you
....
You don't have A goal in mind
Something you Want to see
Trying to get away
....
Where did that part Of my life go?
....
Object at center of memory
Glorified like treasure
....
Conditional
Repeated
Remember Not father or Grandma
But the things
....
Who talks in this poem?
*Collage of marginalia scattered across many pages in a second hand volume of Philip Levine's poems....to get self through a dry spell
Collected Noise
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Airplane Coda – 1
Cities in air is where the heart’s
residue congeals – there is music
and laughter in the distance –
response to soundless comedy
playing out on a plane’s TV.
And held in the wrist, old words – just slightly damp from tears – poems really by Adrienne who disappeared beyond the years' horizon. Is this how air feels when a star collapses into itself?
A rushing of wings, and arrival in A temporal twinkling city that has been torn by whirlwinds into a breathless suffocation.
My Poems
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