Patio

"la tourbière," by Alexandra Levasseur

Patio

If I were a bird this might be nest assembly
but instead I am moving out
which requires building and removing
piles of sticks and leaves from the patio

The pieces of the past year must be cleared
for the birds-to-come

In one way this is a happy task but
spider corpses and dreadful alive daddy longlegs
are inevitable

Make yourself up a cheering song
I coach myself
of how potato bugs practice compliance
as a form of self defense

Sing about the spider bodies gone over to tiny twigs
and leaves gone over to lace
All cannot stay

[Image above by Alexandra Levasseur]

  

Archipelago

"Letter to the Ones We've Lost," 2009, Catalina Viejo Lopez De Roda

Archipelago

Instead of letterforms
our correspondence will be made
from the surviving islands of nail polish
eroding on my fingers

or in the green flowers made from stem
called purslane or moss rose
that assert themselves as weeds in the seam
between house and drive

There are endless ways to speak
when speaking is impossible

The lit up windows of neighbors
in blue night Clothesline with yellow
handkerchiefs Pennants made from rooms
crafted against the darkness

[Image above by Catalina Viejo Lopez De Roda]

Recent Earworm: "Darling," Active Child

Active Child has a new album out, Mercy (here's a recent interview he gave about the album). WOOHOO!! 

Happy weekend, friends.

"The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter," by Mark Strand

"Letter," by Eeli-Ethel Polli

The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter
by Mark Strand

It had been a long day at the office and a long ride back to the small apartment where I lived. When I got there I flicked on the light and saw on the table an envelope with my name on it. Where was the clock? Where was the calendar? The handwriting was my father’s, but he had been dead for forty years. As one might, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, he was alive, living a secret life somewhere nearby. How else to explain the envelope? To steady myself, I sat down, opened it, and pulled out the letter. “Dear Son,” was the way it began. “Dear Son” and then nothing.

[Image above by Eeli-Ethel Polli]

[Poem text via Poetry Magazine]

Something to Write Toward...

Need a little inspiration today? Here you go....have some Angela Deane.

"Ghost Maiden in the Meadow," 2015, by Angela Deane