Saturday, January 21, 2017

...looking up...

          she is there

above you

to make sure you are

aware of her presence

          she knows

what you have done

who you have wronged

what you have tried

to take as your own

          she is there above you

for a reason, a realization

that you cannot control

her or yourself, eyes

behind and in front

fixed on a single

          simple goal:

that you never look

at her as lesser

and never take

          what is not yours

Friday, January 20, 2017

...the song and the psalm...

Today

if you sing a song

long enough it may

start to sing true.

We have to sing

and sing and sing

and sing and everyday

sing again. Each line

as true as the last,

repetition is resilience

anaphora the uniter

and the chants we

sing today will become

the song and the psalm

tomorrow

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

...a new constitution...

we, the deplorable

of the united states

in disorder 

form a more imperfect union

establish injustice

insure domestic volatility 

provide for the common offense

promote general warfare 

and secure the beatings of liberty

and to ourselves 

and our posterior

ordain and establish

this prostitution

for this dis-unified

state of america

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

...thank you for meeting with us, sir...

                             your hand shake

                             your hands shake

trembling in the final interview

before you leave the room

or the planet to go back

to where you came to be from

to where we knew you were from

                              you insisted upon it

                              you were whatever

                              you said you were

and when               you didn't want 

to be that anymore

                              you didn't have to be

                              your hands shake

                              your hand shake


 






Thursday, December 31, 2015

...last note...

there are so many

crickets tonight

that the songs

don't end

they just keep

playing until the next

one comes up

and there is never

            a last note

Wednesday, September 09, 2015

...updated status...


I am writing a great deal 

these days just not to you

and for this I am not really 

sorry I am going back to paper

for a little bit shifting priorities

and alternating sources of inspiration 

I am going back to white space

and more space I will be writing 

to you as I always do just look 

for me in other images look 

for me on other streets 

maybe using black ink

maybe using red paint

maybe using the word

or maybe using a series 

of fast clicks look for me 

on stage or next to the stage

in the audience or prop room

look for me I am writing

just not to you and not here

for now but soon



Wednesday, April 15, 2015

...four lanes...

in these long, timed sentences

where the four walls are the four words

that keep you moving just a little faster

than the four wheels in front of you

you blink and squint, probably four times

peering through the scratched vinyl window

tinted too much to make out nuance

the four passengers in the car

in the next lane all have matching

hats, all have matching stares

all glazed over and pale


the bus passes quickly by

the trip you are on

feels like it will comma splice

and continue illogically,

but there is nothing

you can do about your seatbelt

you are not behind

the giant leather wheel

four lanes from the exit

Friday, January 23, 2015

...calm chowder...




a few years ago

you said you were gonna

try to make it:



I picture you

in the kitchen

cutting potatoes



steaming clams

flour and cream

salting and peppering



in an apron

found in Newton

in a dress



found in Florida

listening to AM Gold

as I came home



with the dog

from fishing somewhere

anywhere near us



           


                                          --MR

Thursday, April 10, 2014

...plate...


groomed grasses

checkered the outfield

in a perfect angle

before and after

the inning is held

in each mitt

in each glove

in each player

trying to find home

Monday, March 24, 2014

...seasonal...

the sharp ends

from an uncoiled spring

of the clicking pencil

used to get caught

in the fingerprint

ridges of your thumb

pulling the skin

like a tentpole

or a carp hook

atop your school desk

as you looked out

the window wishing

spring would start