You, the you I write to.
The whole so what.
I know that I have your
attention. And now
I'll keep showing you
scenes, presenting them
like tattered bouquets.
You, you can look
at them, the images
that I bundle and display.
I bring them because
what else can be done
with the disorder
of how this happens
except to make collections
and place them at your feet.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009: Notcot #25897
How to Live in a Tree
If the tree is going to fall, let it fall.
If it will live, allow it to,
and build your house around it.
Trust it to hold your weight.
Remember that you don't have
a front yard, just a yawning space
and majestic view and a narrow set
of stairs. Yes, watch your step in
this life within life.
If the tree is going to fall, let it fall.
If it will live, allow it to,
and build your house around it.
Trust it to hold your weight.
Remember that you don't have
a front yard, just a yawning space
and majestic view and a narrow set
of stairs. Yes, watch your step in
this life within life.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009: Notcot #25822
Safe
Locked into a safe,
a box with a latch and a lock.
The lid remains closed,
the latch snapped, sealed.
What of the glittering thing
in the dark chamber--
what is it like
in that crate, no air,
no light. Safe, we call it,
from rougher hands,
from the calendar flipping
fast as a bicycle's spokes.
Locked into a safe,
a box with a latch and a lock.
The lid remains closed,
the latch snapped, sealed.
What of the glittering thing
in the dark chamber--
what is it like
in that crate, no air,
no light. Safe, we call it,
from rougher hands,
from the calendar flipping
fast as a bicycle's spokes.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009: Notcot #25833
The Lake Keeper
You have entered onto someone else's land.
This much is clear as you watch water slap shore
and your breath leave you in pale puffs,
perfume from an atomizer.
Even your silence is borrowed, is an interruption.
Three raccoons scuttle from beneath
the skirt of a pine. Ducks clatter in the water,
dirty dishes clanking in a sink.
Probably a squirrel gripped a branch.
Leaves collected against leaves.
Only you watched, thinking your silence
qualified you to belong to this moment.
You have entered onto someone else's land.
This much is clear as you watch water slap shore
and your breath leave you in pale puffs,
perfume from an atomizer.
Even your silence is borrowed, is an interruption.
Three raccoons scuttle from beneath
the skirt of a pine. Ducks clatter in the water,
dirty dishes clanking in a sink.
Probably a squirrel gripped a branch.
Leaves collected against leaves.
Only you watched, thinking your silence
qualified you to belong to this moment.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009: photo by Marcos Armstrong (via his Flickr)
Strange Design
Strange design has been applied
to this sheet metal. Water’s
drooled, dragging rusty stalactites,
brown daggers. Perforated
stencils—labels of ounces and pounds,
an emblem resembling a sheriff’s badge.
The most recent revision: seventeen
bullet holes, a constellation
of freckles, troublesome moles. We process
the punctures as polka dots, black
spots, dark drops of paint.
This metal is aging artfully,
unwittingly, thanks to the dusky
palette of decay, graffiti.
Strange design has been applied
to this sheet metal. Water’s
drooled, dragging rusty stalactites,
brown daggers. Perforated
stencils—labels of ounces and pounds,
an emblem resembling a sheriff’s badge.
The most recent revision: seventeen
bullet holes, a constellation
of freckles, troublesome moles. We process
the punctures as polka dots, black
spots, dark drops of paint.
This metal is aging artfully,
unwittingly, thanks to the dusky
palette of decay, graffiti.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)