I shook off dying
and was left undying,
but how was it other
than what I already was?
Tag Archives: poetry
Ode to Willy Loman
Oh, we’ll fix the car and the shower –
the car that lurches, the shower that leaks –
and clean up the piles
of crap we don’t need.
And I’ll remember my wallet
before I bike to the station,
and my hat won’t be lost
for the twenty-third time.
But and yet still
thy will
won’t be in any of it
(or will) as trains pass
and doors close
and faces watch
the city aglow.
Pressure on the line judge
Of course we know which way we’re going
when we’re in the game, but step outside
to see the ball fly free from the scrum
to cross the invisible line, and hear
the eager calls and know no
answer from deep within to
pleading, pleading eyes
Poster with clouds
Cirrus, stratus,
stratocumulus –
these free shapers of sky and our thoughts
have landed to serve as an internal forum
for student affairs.
Knowing the secrets,
and having weighed the arguments,
they speak their mind and send the young,
chastened but buoyed,
on their way
Nebula
There were axioms in the microgaps
and a man could nod his head
a long time, seeing what he saw
Absent the narrative arc
These were things one happened upon,
senseless crystal bits
fixed for one second
for once and for all
Deeper mysteries of a later age
Whys sunk to why at all
decomposed as quickly
as skybound life
rose from the rotting
Blind man’s buff
You come to me but I
wander around.
I touch everything but you
till you
remove the blind
and see for me
you.
On falling asleep to Williams’ Lark Ascending
There’s a measure of peace in all things,
a first warm sky of the season
in every bleating cold rainy dark
and so, though I see
neither through nor branch
in the blue from my couch,
my body’s settled to become
a meadow for the birds
Wally holds his tongue at the table
Your freedom is just a
chomping down on life,
a crunching of the world and self to bits,
a decorous atomization
