Pervasive lifeis the height of chaos.And curiosity.—The loss of heat to spaceis entropyand so ash order;—We wait againto bubble up as life.Call it energy if you like...Using ourselves as another ending,the next new beginning;—
Tag: poem
Antwerping
Your toes against me moved,your "best feet." You were told.Morning herald camealong wearing shades.My window open all night.Heels on the cobblestone streetand I can't help but looking.Down to the plaza and someonedrinking coffee, unfolding a bicycle.Your best feet against me moved.Heels on the cobblestone streets.Not finishing upstairs,walking alone with frites.If you weren't the only one … Continue reading Antwerping
Literally
The windows the
windows. I’m tired of
being the next
great poet you’ve never heard of.
Really,
Landscape: Benelux into Germany
a. A city like Rotterdam bombed, rebuilt The Nazis said submit or we’ll bomb you into the ocean The ‘Dammers submitted but got bombed anyway What’s the point in that? Now, taller buildings Europe’s busiest port A few coffeeshops tucked away. In a café, cream of mushroom soup, the best bread and a little butter in … Continue reading Landscape: Benelux into Germany
Songs for Art and Memory
All of the great
Songs about memory
And art
Have already been
Written. I didn’t
Have the .
I forget, I didn’t
Have the power.
Picasso said it all about
War, Petrelli could fly.
And here I am feeling
So ordinary.
Let me not have to go
To work
And curse the goddam computer
And overdose on coffee cup cures.
Picasso married the dancer in 1918.
Petrelli saved the world.
I’m content taking love for granted
And writing about the Senate.
I know,
This is just another poem.
Count Dracula Doesn’t Count
When DST kicked inThe door of NovemberEarth shook with time and temp. The river covered itself with broken clothing.The moon was but a stolen egg. Those of us suing EnergyFoamed butane thermsAt the incalculable mouth. Rabid with due datesWe had the delinquent notionTo run our ceiling fansCounter-clockwise in winter; To share the hot air fair.As … Continue reading Count Dracula Doesn’t Count
Master & Apprentice
I Compare them & see.The city of youthGrows up alongside the ageless river,Becomes apprentice of its flow.The river is bustlingBut always there,Always also there.You would think it doesBut it has nowhere to go.The city respondsWith pigeons, people,Seagulls on the backs of boats,Sligo Enterprises, precocious Sligo Steel.The smokestacks of necessary factoriesGrow first, test the wind. II … Continue reading Master & Apprentice
Ambidextrous
I’m holding two pens,
one in either hand.
One pen is for me,
one is for my muse.
I can’t write left-handed
but the muse can.
When my wife coughs
at midnight,
the heater burns with
orange light.
Tonight.
I lead with my left,
not my right.
Double Future
When I died my life became
Nothing but a reel-to-reel
Of all the dreams I’d ever had.
Nightmares, wet ones, lucidity and flying.
But when I got through with those, my afterlife
Was nothing but the dreams within the dreams.
And now, with that tape flickering
In the empty silence of a classroom,
I’m wishing I’d had at least one dream
Of a dream about a dream.
Grain
Night as hard as
The table we sit at.
Once wood the
Table grew old,
Became a table.
Night, pressed,
Becomes morning.
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