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February 28, 2005
Somnambulist
A day and a day, more rivers crossing me […]
I have changed places with geography.
- Donald Revell
I am worried and walking between
tall buildings built of old words that
can’t remember where they last
set themselves down with any kind
of feeling.
“And rivers and towns pass over me,”
scolds the rest of the epigraph. The last
time I slept under a map the stars
came down as ghosts and spoke old languages
and spat on the ground and rubbed their hands
on the slick thighs of their jeans.
Next day an early morning mockingbird bleats
and hoots like the car alarm tone he has taken
all week to memorize. An effortless noise
mimicking the futility of warnings. He tilts
his head curiously at the quieting rock
I’ve thrown, and goes on singing.
I think about the scattered mutterings
committed to describing the sound of
birds beating against a window. Outside
of doors, sleepwalking becomes that
much more.
Posted by Josh at 10:05 PM | Comments (2)
February 25, 2005
ANNOUNCEMENT: Poetry Publishers Who Accept Email Submissions
The way of the future, my friends. The tyranny of the SASE must be eradicated.
Posted by Josh at 11:29 AM | Comments (0)
February 22, 2005
Perception
How the government of Heaven
Rests this morning in a crow’s mouth
- Donald Revell
The paired cackles, the warming sun, the unappreciated
luxury of birds. Pigeon, Crow, Gull, Hawk, Starling, more
that I do not know the names of. Brown nests appear
in trees still chattering in their winter bareness.
Pt. Atkinson Bald Eagles wheel on updrafts above
the efficient lighthouse.
Depiction scatters
across the undulated rock, words are lost
in the small, winding grooves – the old
questions have nothing to do with
this split granite, it plays the long game
while language goes out with the tide.
I try to look through
the door of description and I see a boy throw
a stick into the waves, a dog leaps and sends
a column of ducks into orderly retreat
around the point.
Posted by Josh at 07:14 PM | Comments (2)
February 21, 2005
-menos
The product of you and me is you;
a logarithm for all couplets.
El nuevo ritmo es un cameleon
- sonar despierto sobre la union.
(The new rhythm is a chameleon
-daydreaming about the connection).
That girl, este chico, those trees,
a math that makes sense only to strangers.
Extranjeros, amantes, divide:
un violacion de indole,
(Strangers, lovers, divide:
a violation of nature,)
or beauty that adds or subtracts constantly.
En dos mundos, tiene similitud.
(In both worlds, there is similarity).
Posted by tony at 05:06 PM | Comments (2)