Thursday, January 29, 2009: On the Street…Yellow Shoes, Paris

Solid, unliving objects notice the climate.
Downy green fur sprouts on rocks,
Shifting surfaces from rough to soft.
Coins grow tarnished shells, ink that clings
To silver, seafoam sprung from copper.

Moss, rust, tarnish, ropes of ivy—
You offer the aged, lonely things and places
Steady, slow compassion, companionship.

Thursday, January 29, 2009: On the Street….Black Coat, Stockholm

In Arlington National Cemetery
We learned about the bronze bodies
Of horses and soldiers on top of horses
On top of solid blocks of granite.

The horse’s postures tells us,
Our social studies teacher said,
If the rider died in battle
Or was only wounded.

An angry horse with both front legs
raised high conveys a death in battle.
One leg lifted like a snapped branch
Indicates a wound during service.

Later I heard that the horse code
Is not consistent throughout graveyards.
But to this group of one hundred
Eighth graders, equestrian symbols of dying

Loomed up from the ground like mountains
Sprung up from stony, gnarled roots
And white headstones rose from the gums of earth
In infinite, gapped rows like baby teeth.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009: On the Street…Nails, Stockholm

Clavicle
1.
Either of two slender bones, each
Articulating with the sternum.
From the Latin clavicula: key,
Tendril, door-bolt become
Fasteners in human anatomy,
Lugnut mixed with calcium.

2.
Also called the collar bone, attached
At one end to the shoulder blade.
Is shaped like the letter f (this doesn’t match
the original text—the ink’s decayed
and left a gap. Editor’s note: we’ve patched
this line with “f,” a consonant band-aid).

Tuesday, January 27, 2009: On the Street….Le Marais, Paris

Collar drawn close,
High around the neck,
(petals shut tight)

The universal symbol
For fragility
For bracing against

Feigns strength, performs
Protection with
Varying success.

Monday, January 26, 2009: On the Street…Outside Old England, Paris

When I pulled L’Etranger from your bottom shelf
By its bony, slim spine

The pages spread like the wings of a butterfly
And dropped a brown leaf

At my feet. The leaf was brittle and papery,
And I recalled selecting it

One November day (while I still studied philosophy)
When I felt warm and drowsy