Thursday, August 25, 2016
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
the tree grows from the shoreline
and the trunk is thrust out upon the water
is this is a photograph of desire? if so, whose desire?
or is desire, the lustful knot, undone in this?
is this image two dimensional?
how many dimensions is desire composed of?
how many leagues deep?
the snare of bulbous roots
casts forth its image
which does not complete itself
images in water
my mother is sitting in her easy chair with her oxygen
making circles with her fingers along the rise of each of its arms
she used to do this at lunchtime while sitting at the table with her novels
using the long fingers on one hand to encircle her chin, as she devoured the exotic mysteries
then later, as her eyes worsened, while we talked
she'd hold one arm and encircle her other elbow
i think about being at the river and tossing in stones
the circles widening until they swallow my image as i hang over the bridge
i look a little like my mother
Friday, August 12, 2016
elegy for the easiness of an early evening
they're walking down the country gravel road
in the early evening's empty hours of bird furls
doing nothing but kicking up dust and notes
which are the silent spaces and swirls around the rising dirt
the music of muteness and touching
they're bumping happily into one another
fumbling love in their hands in their empty clodlike hands
stroking penumbras of golden light lifting rising caressing
to the smote of shoulders errant hairs and the private folds of clothing
and there they are walking down that road
going nowhere but through that place of togetherness
holding up the last of the day's cambered light with their
dumb ripe hearts in love with skin that but runs together
there on that dusty road so clearly so painfully
never again you and one of your own small children