Garage Sale

A well-kept bike, a stack of poems in disarray.
What if these poems really did mean something?
How terrifying!

~

The books on the fridge, I’ll get to them soon. After a walk and a few more months of procrastinating. I’ll write poems too. Small ones, by an open window. The moon like a dog licking a plate.

~

Mirrors reflect, yes, but they
Don’t know left from right.

~

A tee
Shirt
Upended
By love.

The unsettled
For a nest.

The universe
Makes for funny haircuts.

~

To sit quiet and remember
The shadows of the heart,

A sea above the stars,

Till you are nothing more
Than a memory yourself,

Till you are at sea
And above the stars.

~

Metaphors undone.

Purposely forgot. An amnesia of flowers.

A calligraphy
Of absence.

The pigeons downtown
Are the last of the angels

In rock colored coats.

~

These unknowns!

With blue songs in their feet,
As or husked brains squeal like throbbing beheaded nuts,

And the blue ears of the moon
Tremble with the arson of love.

 

What is Form but Prompting You to Turn the Page?

I know that you are tired of hearing me talk. And you say, I am tired of hearing you talk. I nod and say, the table leans a little. But that’s it.

Poems should lean a little. And cats should cry at the door to come in. Saturn whistles like a dump truck. A poet puts up graffiti in a city less tangible than the threadbare guts of being alive . Our fingers fidget like a can opener in a cloud.

Please don’t take this poem seriously, almost every letter is out of place, it’s a miracle it’s legible, and vastly improbable any of it is true.

Anyway, it’s a love poem

At night, there is a man whistling for his dog. Not even the crickets reply. Which is terrifying.

I open the window and look out. I too don’t hear the man.

Home Schooling

1.

The philosophy of horizons,
Specifically, the chapters on distance,

Is the zoology of time.

2.

The Minotaur
Are obstacles

In dreams. Like folded
Paper you have to unfolded.

Except that you are terrified.
And you haven’t learned

It’s pointless to retreat,
Even more so to be eaten.

4.

You can accompany
All the volume of spacetime

Always, where ever you go

Because it has stripes
Like a tiger.

5.

The shoes of the sea have stars up to their knees.

The Digital Pollen of an Abstract Afternoon

The way here is through particles of self and to the dust and the sea and that breath.

Distance and the sandwiches.

I forget all my head and I don’t like it where is the weather of himself to wear through the streets and along the train rails.

The broken brick lay in a pile a few yards from what’s left of the industrial structure: the flowers and the plants interceding.

On the rubble mound shoes probably me with them finding the space listening to the nearby fields no sound but in vibrations my self is the song space.

Post-Work

Foraging for paperclips
On the moon

The clerk alphabetizes
Piano concertos

By tone.

Enumerates the asteroids, some standing like an upright bass.

Makes a note: a foolish nostalgia for the 1980’s is the hobgoblin for neoliberalism.

All the while on stilts with a telescope, the clerk bird watches.

Clouds in the distance like the blushing of elbow smashes.

And so foolish are these ledgers
Chances are

They’re true.