The blacker the branch, the
redder the eye that
peers knowingly in my room
The blacker the branch, the
redder the eye that
peers knowingly in my room
Once while
sick at school
in the nurse’s bed
I thought of spies
and crossed the room
and never tripped the alarm
Detail from “Apocalypse” by Marc Mulders. Catharijneconvent, Utrecht.
Not calling.
It ending.
Never saying thanks.
A rigor short of mortis
Troubled by the flood below
The action occasions silence and
periodic utterance, your analysis topping
that of the experts.
As always there is theory to consider,
one’s own team
and injury,
Saturday’s opponent,
the coach’s strategy…
All of this really is
about this,
though hearts step up to speak it.
For Kevin Cooley
And for Pieter
1
FROM BABEL WE ROSE
Stacking our pile of hearts
2
GOD KNOCKED US DOWN
So we lifted him up
3
HE TURNED ALL INTO LOVE ON THE CROSS
4
BAH!
When one man twists, he turns them all