305 works
For her, when the closet dreams again began their terror was that of stillness,
& that stillness the kind of cemeteries. Away, she could rationalize this, say
that the grave coats were only cloth, the narrowing light, only a viewpoint,
Fear. Numbers. Money----
All bottom line criteria detailing this century
resulting from ignorance & an enlightenment
Also must search the embankments,
the shores for your crypt, all those emblems -
beloved, beloved - our fingertips leave...
On ledges of vertigo falcons,
I left behind some crumbs for flying
critters
Might sodium pentothal work or perhaps amnesia,
a clean slate, no shame, no idea -
(is there?) - of lacking...
Ages sleep, rock-mysterious: the fossils of lava flooding senses fathom
by the lights of fish blind themselves in their own darting schools,
pearlescent as targets only carbon's neon strobes
Koi are not fish, he says.
They’re the backyard’s jewelry collection.
But they are fish, he adds.
It’s obvious that
our waitress is distracted.
Tears in her eyes
I sit myself in a place where the crowd is mere mirage.
There is nothing in this concert hall but the music
and myself. The violinists try their best to pass as people,
I never had time for the strangers
with their barstool philosophies
and their breath like last week’s regrets.
First a visit to
the Giacometti exhibit.
Haven’t been in London for years
Poets grabbed the word “love.”
And they kept it for themselves.
Does that surprise you?
There are days when the street is the most spiritless place on earth.
You leave the house and, though people don't let you pass, though
you have to eke out your path on the sidewalk, for you
I moan of the subtle pain,
hidden under my spine
arched like an arrow
I open my eyes
Low and behold, to my surprise
I am alive still
Dark alley
Where we met
Maimed by your simper
What can I say, and how
To make the words into shievers
Where would I learn, and if I did, how would you know
I saw you on the bus. I never knew you, but I knew you when. When things were nice and quiet. If I could pile up all thi
Read More →I hid you in my thought
Deep, in dark ravines
Behind mountains of chores
The smile descended in the room
past five
One wall was made of shade