Posts
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The West Wind
The West Wind is a banker in a smart navy suit and a tie. His dress shoes clack on the pavement; he’s got someplace to be, always someplace to be, rushing to the sidewalk, the subway, the elevator, checking his gold Rolex watch.
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the river in the woods
is more of a creek,
covered in yellow leaves and rotting branches
that staunch the flow like a bandage over blood.
The river in the woods
probably used to rush
like its brothers farther north, shrieking
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chosen goodbyes
/ i am running / and for once / i am not
dragging you with me / i am glad / and clearly /
you are not to blame /
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rocket launch
5
warm droplets of sweat
collect
on the back of my neck
drip
am i ready
4
heart threatening
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we did okay.
i found a binder full of photos from my preschool years,
lined paper covered in neat cursive
signed by my teachers, women who i remember the names of
and not much else. their voices were warm and the house
Loves
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I'm not a poet
I'm not a painter,
but if I were, you'd be my muse.
I'm not a sculptor,
but if I were, I'd only sculpt you.
If I were a singer, I would never run out of songs, -
anaphylaxis at 12 p.m. on a monday
i have trusted
myself.
i have trusted
my body.
i have believed
it will not bite back
that it will not feel the roaring rush
of danger in what is safe.
i have thought
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Kill the Textbook
, and then the astronomer looked up at the stars and forgot everything.
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In the Desert
The new year came in,
with bursts of light across the city scape,
like a flock of birds rising
from the ashes of Phoenix's horizon.
We, and the cacti, watch the fireworks
and cheer,
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One Seven
One
the list, the ambitions typed into neatly folded laundry and messy buns.
Seven
a.m. the time the covers mute the morning-nothing is concrete.
One
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take the president and run
capture the old
to become the new.
kidnap the worse
to become the better?
better at running a country
that isn't even ours,
better at taking credit for
work that isn't his,