How far do you let it go
before you reel it back in?
And how big is exactly
the fish you’re trying to catch?
And how smart and strong are you?
And can you swim?
Tag Archives: poetry
Thank you, Mr. Kays
I walked a metaphysic of trust,
that line of no width we posited at school.
There were no buildings on either end,
but you didn’t need them.
Once you could get
from a point to a line,
the rest was easy.
Planes rose to welcome your feet.
Legendary last reunions
Of the family
when everyone was still there –
brass-knuckle voices, the ball game,
lawn chairs and drinks
with maraschino cherries –
“You jackass! No wonder
he walked away” –
barbecue sauce black
and two outs for the closer –
another win for the Cubs
in an otherwise winless year
Midnight blue
Love casts out fear
Hence I found myself
three trees from the big house
working my way back
one black trunk at a time
A superhero’s soaring violence
Abundant in the air,
thwacks and grimacing jaws –
a cracked wall in the one frame,
rubble in the next –
a nuclear flash
and,
at last,
the muffling down,
a caroling
in paper soft as spring
What rain was like in a parking lot in P.A.
It’s not at all but
I’ll say it, like
open-heart
surgery
and not in rivulets
but sheets
and who knew
the pavement sloped down?
Sleep as snow
You could fall back down
into it,
flailing until the angel arises
to be the you,
the better day
I’ve kept from you my resurrections
I’ve folded them up and boxed them
(in a brown box, no more).
You’ll want no gloating, no
easy answers – Sentimental, I think
you’ll say – so I take my sunlit
paths of pine needles, my sugar-berried
friendship – and flatten and tuck them
into a neat remembrance
all for myself.
Nests revealed in the tallest of trees
Their secret rides our own whistled word,
for this and every
bird’s a love bird.
Mr. Schilling makes the most of it
They’ll be tightening the chain
on my bike today. I’ll be done with
slipping and clacking.
Slick steel will join intentions to powers.
You’ll see where I’ve been when I’ve gone on by.
