Monday, September 30, 2013

30 september

It’s a catch and release program
a tennis match, back and forth
All about balance
                -- they say—
You need to learn to let go
                                                walk away
Not that big a deal, the end of the world
It’s just a BLANK
Just finish it tomorrow
                And – as if so easy – they float away

As I was minding my own day
Into the plain there was this color

It was you and I was surprised
Not that I forgot or wanted you to but
I was minding my own

And when you had gone again
Still the flash
My own mind wasn’t minding
Hard to tell if it was over mattering

Sunday, September 29, 2013

29 september

but at least I’ll have a good night’s sleep
he thought, driving home
the baby’s cry echoing in his ears
who could stand it?
the up and down all hours
obeying without choice one without sense
as if the trend might improve
bills to pay, decisions and worries
borrow the car and where to college
messedup relationship and hopedfor advice
better not to have to worry, better off without
he thought, pulling into the driveway
locking the door behind him
sliding under the covers
eyes still awake in the dark

Thursday, September 26, 2013

26 september

The going-home geese—as I was thinking about the mirror—had only advice for the sky and the ground below as I turned off the day and turned into a reminder of myself—the whats I wanted to have done all slipping out the way away the colors on the coded tabs reaching but not far, not grabbing anywhere of use, the tooth not loose enough to bind, to mind more than the occasional gurgle—

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

24 september

Whether to have the last word in a train derailing just past the station or a trained seal of the deal clapping flippers together unbalanced with fish and an audience delighted by its own absurdity – here we are chasing our weekends off of the calendar: let me put you down for the ten of clock july, once the corn is tired of tea and we will hit snooze twice so everyone will reply to all – ready, set, golden days of fixing it all in the palm of one small classroom ninth-grade biology while standing on his chair, he would proclaim his kingdown and we bowed with stippled diagrams obedience and absurdity but yes he was the kind and he could fix and all those tricks within those walls because the rules were set and we were safe

Monday, September 23, 2013

23 september

In the first place, while the racers were chasing down the peanut aisle, the backwater smile and the golden trial were up for the third or some other rounded base, and the smile that crossed my face was a dotted eye crackled like patina bronzed like a greener shade of pale railing against steps like they only go down when everybody knows they go both ways and it’s pretty scant praise to raise your own roof but if you only speak the truth then that’s an only life to lose that’s a wiggly tooth to use in the pursuit of some unlaughable taffy pull—get it when you can—a pelican of beakfull delight isn’t enough to stuff his face with just one bucket full of grace and just hold – as the whole world folds – it’s a steady stream of dreams when the truth runs clean and the sounds that steam the train – here we go again, and the truth be told, let it be, let it be

Sunday, September 22, 2013

22 september

Oh, god in the parking lot of Sunday
Waking me  before I have reason to feel alive
Shouting to your girlfriend of your dreams:
I don wanna see no dishes in the sink when I wake up
Forgive me my trespassing ears, for I am greedy
For I am in need of counsel and seek it always
Movie themes and whispered advice—
We accept the love we think we deserve
A dream is a wish your heart makes
Oh, forever and holy, open to me these answers
that I may wake to an empty sink
that my dishes may be clean