Monday, August 22, 2016

Loss as lunch

Old slick slice of turkey
No bread
No mustard
You will nourish me
When you are gone
And I'll remember eating
Without you
You
When next I have bread
Even a dead dog
Can be missed fondly
Never: if only
Only: never again
It's  ruff
But we lose
Things
Each other included
And if we find ourselves
In the kitchen
We eat


Friday, August 12, 2016

ITEM: considering upping game on practice

On sparse occasion I acknowledge the intent of this blog, as enshrined in its subtitle
"writing practiced"
and lately after some lapse I've again practiced at writing with regularity
but I'm maybe up to pushing myself to practice structure. Which gives me fits and I loathe.
So maybe very very short essays at a 2nd grade level will appear here soon amidst the offal poems.


Thursday, August 11, 2016

One more restless before bed

Trees not trees dark mountain cloud
Lumbering under grey
Sky not sky
Always demanding specificity
Surrounded by blur and glare
The sharpest thing
Is my mosquito bite
And it's always been the same mosquito
Foot my foot
Purple cracked
The story goes
Was one mosquito
Not my story
Nor my foot
Not my body
Then or now
But we repeat the same
I repeat until my history is biblical
The mosquito my snake
The first bite
Gave all knowledge
All these years
And every mosquito
Was one mosquito
Trying to tell me
The world is blood
And pain

I have stared and studied love
Squinted and marveled and made all my focus the little elements and large motions 
Of 
But in my memory
All eyes
All feet
All kisses
Burn one flame
Melt to one
Grotesque amorphous body barely seen
A waxing monster in the shadows 
Thighs
Where lips are looked for 
Or a laugh
When the back of the neck is sought 
No hair
Until hair is conjured
No hand to hold
But a hundred hands together
When hand is spoken
Despite my memory
I long for you
Ever surprising comfort
Refuge from the haunting
Of your shade
In some cell of my body
Death
Can I find it
Like a cool breeze in the desert
Faint harbinger of cold
But welcome in the heart
Of stifling day
Waiting for hope
Is not hoping
For love
Not loving
For life
Not living
To stand straight
Straighten
Always

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Unobserved verginity take 2

The stars beyond our sight
Free of our binding
From a center point 
have spilled their light
Into galaxies 
We are hunting them
With names
Their light is green
As leaves in darkness
Or love in sleep

If they sing our names
Our memoriam
Before we are made
Or harmonize our names together
Lights to bind us
Though we, hunting,
Hide