Ambiguous light
This first of January
Mountain eye, absence
Of pervasive cloud
Claude outside hides behind plant
It fails to hide him
From Maeve, who growls, rain
Recommences nattering
On green and brown fronds
My unpoetic
Palm, neither metaphor nor
Face plant on this day
We devote to mean-
ing, action not result,
Always the same thing:
History’s erasure
Necessary, too simple
Not to run the wheel
Again: I love them
“To the moon and back” though no
Moon shows in portal
So I have faith in
Moon, memory reassures me
It’s there like the star
I can't imagine
In the space between the eyes
So I remember
Looking at the real
Sky, its pixel of light shifts
To the inner-verse
That counters facebook’s
Claim to multitudes of verse
Or algorithms
Where was the lyric
Crash when we needed it, mass
Media broken like
Instruments of Christ-
mas on tile floors slick as ice
Stark as burned grasslands
Our houses are grass
No flag of dispositions
Just American
Fascist pole dancers
Clank of rope against metal
Post, same word as post-
War, post-pandemic,
All the posts you shall salute
As flags come down, half-
Staff is par for course
When everyone’s sick, cannot
Fly the plane, drive car
Friend’s daughter attacked
In elevator by mask
Denying woman
Friend’s daughter wrestled
In high school, sex assumptions
Presage the coming
Uncivil conflict
I sit in my closed room while
Claude washes right paw
Outside the glass door
Nothing’s broken yet this day
Post-firework, post-tra-
No comments:
Post a Comment