Category: Poetry
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3006: The Liturgy
Liturgy for His Return, Cagnes-sur-Mer (Summer 1842 — Where the road remembers him) I. The Hill That Has Grown SteeperI found the hill steeper than I remembered,or else I had brought backless of myself than I meant to. This is what a year does.This is what the navy does.This is what it meansto be carried…
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2906: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: San Francisco Earthquake 1989World Series.Baseball.Late afternoon. It starts with the soundof a heavy lorrydriving by. Lorries never droveon our little narrow lane. Eucalyptus hanging low.Potholed dusty track.Watch for falling rock. Then waves.In the pool. Washed upand over the lawn. The birdsstopped singing. A friend refusedto go backinto her house. Cooked outside.Bathed outside.She…
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2906: The Liturgy
Liturgy for the Year of His Absence(Cagnes-sur-Mer, Winter 1842 — Waiting Becomes a Way of Life) I. The Question That Never Leaves Where is Felreil? Not a question of geography.Not a question of distance.A question of existence:whether the world still holds him,whether the shadows have released him,whether he is still stridingin his English-blackened bootsthrough streets…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Great Digging Mystery(Or: A Cane Corso’s Underground Ambitions) The cat sits on the fence post,high, safe,watching Crymych,the Italian mastiff with the Welsh name,dig a hole in his garden.Deep.Determined.Earth flying like brown bag confetti. The Old Woman appears with her tea.“What’s he doing?” The cat doesn’t look away.“That, Old Woman,is the question of the hour.Is…
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2706: Journal of SenHai (updated)
Heatwave Poetry Senryu each hill wears a hushas if the cold remembersa lullaby’s name Haiku Snow piles in the dawn shadows shift, a long, low hum;world pauses, hearing … and because my ink refuses to put a lid on it … so to speak … I. snow keeps no footprintsuntil someone needs a path II.…
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2706: dVerse Ars Poetica
Ars Poetica: The Yew This is a tree.But this is not about the tree,and it’s not about that summer,or the forest behind our house,or the Japanese maplethat Dad naileda birdhouse on. Nails.Crucified.Like Jesus. I called itthe Jesus Treeafter that. And it’s not aboutthe huckleberriesI ate before chasingsomething. Something — I can’t recall what. Always runningbeneath…
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2606: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: The One Busted for Drugs Pollen is thick as midgeson a loch, a leaf blowerand the windscreenis clear. Bless their obnoxious noise. Coupon in my pocket. Spend £60,get £20 off.£60 is easy. Meat, more meatand maybe a chicken. Pallets in the aisle. Shopping trolleys stop,turn,batter one another. No milk.No lettuce.No beans.Green cabbage…
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2506: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: The Childhood Rituals of Cake Batter I wake in the middleof a dream. Something about clay.Or maybeit was cake batter. Mum always let me lickcake batterfrom the mixer beaters. Unless my little sisterwas nearby, then we had to share. Like our clothes, my sister and Idressed in the same fabric. Mum sewed.…
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2406: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: Same as It Always Is I’m a child among green,leaves,grass,and Queen Anne’s lace. Take a load off your mind,child,says the forest. A man nods.His dog shuffles upa layer of leaves. I’ve never seena nose so happy. Mist freedfrom a damp cloth sky.It was sunny the other day.Fish-and-chip weatherand battling gulls. But that…
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2306: Everywhere Poems
An Everywhere Poem: A View Through Vaseline Lilac blooms ‘tweensteel rails, click and plink,luggage sways in the aisle, his shoes relax at angleson the seat opposite.I glance away from the sign “No feet on seats”. Scented air:Perfumedsour sweatand coffee. Cantonese;French;Arabic. Station announcement in English. A woman nods off.Jerks awake. Mid June is juicy green,ivy on…
It's Still Life 