Cage
“The living room across the roadway
Cuts its square of light
And in it fight
Two figures, hot, irate,
Stuck between sink and sofa in that golden cage.”
Posts Tagged "poem"
Bent to the Ground
“They had hit Ruben
with the high beams, had blinded
him so that the van
he was driving, full of Mexicans
going to pick tomatoes,
would have to stop.”
In Perpetual Spring
“Gardens are also good places
to sulk.”
Parting Song
“First
it is one day without you.
Then two.
And soon,
our point: moot.
And our solution, diluted.”
Farm Sonnet
“The barn roof sags like an ancient mare’s back.
The field, overgrown, parts of it a marsh
where the pond spills over.”
Legacies
“but the little girl didn’t want
to learn how because she knew
even if she couldn’t say it that
that would mean when the old one died she would be less
dependent on her spirit so”
An Old Poem Surfaces on a Podcast
What a lovely surprise to see in my Inbox, and what an even lovelier surprise to hear. I feel very honored that someone liked my work enough to include it, let along recite/record it for others to hear.
JazzKeys
Created by Plan8 and John Soat, JazzKeys is a really fun text and music visualization experiment. It’s a reminder to me of the great projects I’d see on the Internet, in the early 2000’s.
Derek Walcott: Star
I had this strange ritual when I was an undergraduate. Well, I had several, but the one I’m talking about was what I did early in the mornings, before I went to my job at the Monroe County Public Library.
Walking Through a Spider Web
“I believed only air
stretched between the dogwood
and the barberry: another
thoughtless human assumption”
Flowers
“They are fleeting.
They are fragile.”
How It Is
“Shall I say how it is in your clothes?
A month after your death I wear your blue jacket.
The dog at the center of my life recognizes
you’ve come to visit, he’s ecstatic.”
Naming the Trees
“At the national cemetery in Gettysburg
all the trees have names,
both family and genus…”
Axe Handles
“One afternoon the last week in April
Showing Kai how to throw a hatchet
One-half turn and it sticks in a stump.
He recalls the hatchet-head
Without a handle, in the shop
And go gets it, and wants it for his own.”
Changing the Front Porch Light for Thanksgiving
“To balance there, again, in the early dark,
three rungs up on the old stepladder,”