Poem for the Collected Poems of Delmore Schwartz
You wobbling cantilever
between the ages
Fitting into circles,
Poetry
347 works
Significance
The most important thing to know about prehistoric humans is that
they were insignificant animals with no more impact on their environment
than gorillas, fireflies or jellyfish.
Pain
“On a scale of one to ten?” the doctor asks. Not good at estimating, I say “five,”…
Crows evacuate
their fire-seared Douglas firs.
It Is Important to Understand
Everyone you meet is suffering:
heart breaks, body aches,
the cruel despair of war.
The End of the Week in Me
Dazzlingly authentic first thing in the morning,
this nude scene is justified, if the curtains cannot censor
No red light hangs around here, it is time to recline
Heading for the Flavor Core
No more silken circumstances,
my relations are going methodical, getting credentialed
no future contacts dreamed up,
Just Passin’ Through
Missing:
Old Spice, your beer can collection, hours, tomatoes, my mother’s red lamp,
friends, manzanita, glasses, warm hands: lover-sized.
Meandering Matters
After another duplicate banishment of sunlight,
the courtyard fills with metal cans scraping along the concrete
echoes of the week’s indulgences are now being hauled out
A Pledge to Meet in September
Boneless and beautiful, the equinox morning seems ready
and open for restoring balance, a moment of clarity,
maybe a chance to find whatever health I’ve recently lost
The Second Inning
Spinning, twisting, the curving ball drops to home plate.
The catcher can’t see the signs from the coach.
Anarchy is loose upon the diamond.
Waiting for the Storm
The wings anchor the redtail hawk to the sky
in an unstable atmosphere.
In a downward spire he swoops the field.
EIGHTY-FIVE-YEAR-OLD ICON HAIKU
[derivative scribbled grooving to half-dead-Dylan obscure playlist as one grandkid…
it's easy to have
courage when one of your feet
Roman Glass
What started out as silica to the Phoenicians
became the Roman art on the dining room table.
Cage-cups , perfume bottles, animal flasks, and fluted bottles,
A Catfish Song
The queen of sage, the wiry rat dog,
guards our campsite, never relaxing,
a vigilant sentry, our patrolman of brush,
ICE outta Minnesota, love
ICE outta Minnesota, love,
now they might allow dreams in the ghetto,
they might stop shooting niggas on the run,
Me and My Rock’n’Roll Dad
Me and my rock'n'roll dad
would go walking on streets of secrecy,
in broad daylight, under a Communist sun,
You were the last high
I can tell a lot about the lows
the 'Lowlands are home to me now'
I don't feel blue and I don't feel desperate