Friday, June 30, 2017

30 june

turned on air to cool the fever
meet the cool the pillow dark
twilight from a waiting sky
porch a perch of wonderwhy
clouds too full and blocking sense
sidebeside or set apart
think too deep and trip up hope
smooth is sailing when we both
blow the sails to full and sunny
leave the boat to do the rest
water wind and sky and luck
the chart the course the stars above

Thursday, June 29, 2017

29 june

and when I stopped
and waved my hand
the stick girl unfolded from the sidewalk corner
a leaf turned to wings
surprise at the freedom of flight
and -- landing -- shook free another pair
two with wide eyes
wild in their crossing and fast
safety to both sides
and I faltered
in driving on
knowing the best of my day
had passed by
running away

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

28 june

so really why bother
there's nothing undercollar but apologies
things fall apart
for a start and what's more
the floor keeps falling
the kettle keeps calling and the red door's black
collapse the air in a staring contest
I'll see myself out
doubts too slippery to pocket
unlocked sockets and the shock that overwhelms
the current that seeks forgiveness
the flow afraid to stop

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

27 june

because walking away is too far to get to
and there's so much else to do first
capture the flag and drag it underground
the search continues through the forest
nothing to see for all the trees
breezing past the pools of quiet light
drowning in the dark of patience
worn out by waiting and too tired to go

Monday, June 26, 2017

26 june

spread the sheet and chart the course
pack the cart before the horse
the formulas we cause to execute
the angles that will never add up
cup the running over
let the hourglass spill
there is too much to matter here
no law worth conservation
tune in to a different station
I cannot sleep for cold
nothing gold can be
green is its own moment
cell by sun by shine
row by column by night
upstream slipping under

Sunday, June 25, 2017

25 june

still have the sky at least
blank as it may be
or telling a different story
a script I cannot read
awaiting the chance to jump
to know when the time is right
to hear to see to feel
again the quiet echo
/there's nothing more to come/
waiting past hoping
turning to river to stone

Saturday, June 24, 2017

24 june

an echo now the door is heard
closing as if set by time
tock the lock and tick the moments
sure you've packed enough to take
leave the washing up behind
climb the sky and see what's else
distance grows and quiet answers
crickets wind and thoughts of rain

Friday, June 23, 2017

23 june

because otherwise I am upside down
or else all else is
lightning bugs and shooting stars
planes and lights of passing cars
a neon buzz gone flat
deflated and decaffeinated
but sometimes there is gravity
that lights the way
that sets the day in motion
the notion of forward
forewarned but not hesitating
something better ahead is waiting
full circle to remember
a season I recall
waiting in the dark for the ticket to arrive

Thursday, June 22, 2017

22 june

moon over the back of a chair
maybe to wear tomorrow
stretch the stars far enough to close in close
two points and the shortest distance between
I wish I say
I wish I mean
might the night make sense of day
script the lines and scenes to play
no way out of wondering
what did you mean by meaning
how could I stop believing
starlight candles fireflies
wish I why
wonder you
dream in constellations

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

21 june

there were different plans
now the car won't start
melting into pavement
through the earth

the past tense enough to snap
collapsing the present
no future to suture from the remains

plain enough to abstain
but bluffs to call unanswered
poor reception and a lesson in humility

this door is not the only one
the tense is much too heavy
locked out of my own try

the longest day of the year
time enough to know
dark enough to see

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

20 june

Instead I came home early
but not what most would call
because I had run out of words

A bowl of soup instead
as if to fill
and the taste of warmth
I was glad for
looking down instead of out
taking in
not giving away

Echo in an empty bowl
hungry still for something more
cupboards bare and pockets empty
nothing left but want and taste

Monday, June 19, 2017

19 june

stopped short
as if the air will catch up
toss suitcase lungs of air at my chest
explode oxygen into the vacuum
falling, fallen
the space of uncertainty
shape of eternity
watching the dark for clues
hearing none
holding my own hand
head hot and hollow
heart in my mouth but cannot speak
thinking back to the right words
the right letters to spell you
but turning away from magic
sadly does the trick

Sunday, June 18, 2017

18 june

instead I speak of blueberries
fresh and better, ripe, dark
waiting for nothing
enjoyed in their own time
bitter and raw
juicy and sweet
flavor to savor for a moment

you think it is a metaphor
everything cannot help but be
more than itself
satisfaction in existence
a slice in the color wheel
palatable, in season

summer is only that
we cannot ask for more
and yet we do, we do

Saturday, June 17, 2017

17 june

walk alone more solitary than before -- for some rhymed time -- joining in, coming along -- faded -- no certainties but more goodbyes and rain that brings a different feel than before -- shared stars and swapped skies, time zones for hours and pennies for thought -- bought not what I paid for -- waylaid more by hope -- but the thanks that belong, the road that continues -- there is never a destination -- gone to turn to hesitation instead of action -- a retraction at last that casts doubt on the rest -- not a test but I've failed and the stale recollections of the first days fade as the parade is rained on -- while there's plenty of music to make and pictures to shake loose into the mail -- receiving notice and the hocus pocus vanishes -- the circus gone before the stakes are pulled -- no comfort but to close

Friday, June 16, 2017

16 june

heading backward with my ears to a year ago and my feet still as stone and the lone thought rattling around a caged brain with a loud refrain trembling and revealing the naming of uncertainties -- the hurt we see in our own undoing and the brewing of a solution too strong to swallow and too weak to taste -- waste not and replace not but the overcaught pitches thrown too low to notice for all this time while the climate's been cooling and the dark coming up -- cup my mouth to your ear and tear to my eye -- try again, gone again -- line breaks, wonder why

Thursday, June 15, 2017

15 june

it's a cold heat that melts us from the inside as we pull up the covers and taste the air for signs of something better to come -- warmer than this feeling of cool damp empty, fresher than the dusky sense of leftbehind -- unwind from the blankets and find you are alone -- growing undone and ready to run away or at least to drift -- an elegy to apologies and a hard rain to break my bones and flood my eyes

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

14 june

feeling I have closed all the doors and what's more the windows are too high to reach -- a peach of a problem to have when there's still light to grab and a pocket to hold full -- pull yourself up and cup hands to ears to fears of being silenced -- the riots police their own plans and the trails all run through native lands with geologic bends and depending on your circumstances not much time's left for happy dances when you're on your way out and the sky leaves a bill

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

13 june

boggle as the mind goes sizzling on the sidewalk -- as the gardens grow -- let us keep our knees bent -- better yet our legs -- as the pegs get rounder and the holes shift square -- fair enough the grounds and merry go the rounds -- catch the candy as it cottons, keep the apples or they're rotten well before it's time for pie, ours to only wonder why -- keep the salt and drink the chai -- goodbye, the darling clementines

Monday, June 12, 2017

12 june

there's room enough for disillusionment -- I sent packing the track record and kept forwarding the fan mail but it's a neverfail nevermind that pays no heed to the left behind gardens hardening in the sun with unstrung cucumbers and peaches out of sort or season -- I see no reason to carry on but I feel a strong sense of runaway moving in like a swimmer's ache at the look of the sea, like an hourglass full of jam and a riptide that just won't tear: I know there's somewhere to be going but I'm sure I can't tell where --

Sunday, June 11, 2017

11 june

unnecessarily messy and there's no way to upturn to turn over to fourleaf the clover and to capitalize the letters -- we forgive our debtors and collapse under the weight -- we can't overstate our welcome

Saturday, June 10, 2017

10 june

In short, there's a long way to go. Hold forth but not north, go down but not out. A voice in the street that calls up to the windows: who will answer? Dark parked for hours while the sun makes its plan. Scan the sky for clues to use in tracking the stars and leaving the scars alone to imagine healing. Reeling from feelings and stepping away: nothing at all left to take from today but an imbalancing -- the challenging forecast that's wrong once again. Handle the scandal of turning away when I'm talking to you -- walking through you to some other door -- no plan after all, no candidates for the cattle call. Tune to some other frequency and hope it's higher up as I cup my ear to listen.

Friday, June 9, 2017

9 june

i had a few more pieces to pile on but the style in question was undimensional -- the vague convention full of keyed-up notes out of tune and consumed by the need to be agreeable and a thimble full of virtue makes the rest of the world a question -- lessening the schools and raising up the rules from a cruel and foolish happenstance with a mystery of empty pants left behind in an unwinding sheet when there's plenty left to eat if you'll just join the others right here at the table

Thursday, June 8, 2017

8 june

I broke the Taj Mahal today. I have been up close to two car accidents in four days. I started a mess I didn't need to and then got flailing stuck. The voice of a beloved claymation character has died. I'm turning down another invitation I can't bring myself to take up. I heard nothing from the other side all day. I lost a resource because he was taken away. I waited for a chance for a mercy ice cream scoop but suddenly it was all gone. I have sore feet and a broken heart. My head is not so solid either. But a book I'd forgotten I put on hold just came in. I went on a walk. The night air is cool. Most everything else is set aside.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

7 june

let's try to get along -- or let's strongarm the lottery -- let's flatter the pantry -- or let's flounder a-plenty -- let us now eat our words: tastily herded and gratefully gobbled -- we cobble together occasional scenes, wrap up our thoughts in occasional themes -- when the words wave wild in the wind and there's a tailspin to contend with, i can hardly stop to lend with one hand while i'm yanking with the other -- we've uncovered some fresh varieties and i try to please myself and your health and happiness all twisted up together but the weather's easier to forecast and it's mostly will that tracks past now into more so i'm watching for the score

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

6 june

i had in mind a few unwinding steps but what crept from my feet was a stocking full of nowhere -- chair the meeting and take the floor: there's no denial anymore that this is something tangible -- unmanageable maybe but a crazyfeathered bird too absurd to be imagined -- gladdened my day more ways than yesterday had space -- erase at least some of the hum and a bit of the drum gets beaten on out with the overcooked shout that flattens to the horizon -- no surprise in the rearview but ahead there's a clear view of something better and an undestroyed sweater i will wrap my arms up in: the stuffing in sky and my heart fills cloudfull

Monday, June 5, 2017

5 june

moon over easy and a slice of why toast -- most of the time we right our rhymes where we left them before, tangled up and sore on sour -- powering through the useless times then finding that's all there was left -- west of the sun and south of the sky there's an hourglass that's melting fast into the sea and we flee from the sights we can't handle and mango the fruit in pursuit of a simplified stride -- wide as the water and willing to wonder: how have all the gardens grown in the overthrown stadium of night eaten up by day

Sunday, June 4, 2017

4 june

it must be a reaction but for now there's just retractions to withdraw from -- the pond scum that appears from nowhere and we care more than this but the twists in the plot mean we ought to keep our eyes open and our hearts full if we're to get through and it's a bit truer than false to imagine we're going to have an easier time at any stage but if this is the page we end on well then that would be good to know, too -- blow through the hopes and rope in enough clouds to crowd the mind with other kinds of fairy tales we find on sale in our grocer's freezer and beyond --

Saturday, June 3, 2017

3 june

it takes so little i'm almost out of room already -- fill up and spill over: fresh air and yes again and again -- the response to a call -- the question and the answer -- the chance is worth taking -- the cake -- closer than sky and sea, mountain and sun -- bring these signs together and forward into the east

Friday, June 2, 2017

2 june

stars bright enough to see the dark with -- to know the moon gives light more powerful than the sun, unstrung by gravity or reflection or collections of chaos in the basket of holes -- to halve or to whole, in business or in quiet: the space we chase together and apart smarts at the thought of dissolution -- of the confusion of how many others shuffling into range -- unchanging in their attitudes and bruising the truth in reflection like collections of platitudes strung along to dry -- don't cry for me but send me to argentina -- pamper the pampas and romper the rompus room -- i have better use of my time and won't be confined to yours

Thursday, June 1, 2017

1 june

more to say on the subject but for now let's turn it over to somewhere else like a shelf full of options but the baking soda's flat or is it powder and are you louder than a breadbox or a red fox or does your garden just grow -- though there's no stigma attached and no catch to release so a relief at the earliest and at the latest news that's not -- we've got to get our stories straight or no one else will hesitate to draw them into suspicion and you're missing a truth but maybe for christmas if you're two front-up about it -- though i doubt it from what i've heard -- i've been listening but still no words that filter through the space and i'll replace the doubts with hope as a rope to toss out your way if you'd like to come here to play