Tag: Poetry
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1 November: The Season Leaves Should Love
I.I really should love this season, gilt and ruby leaves that move with the wind, catch and hang in spider webs. But I don’t. People in my family always die in the winter. Every last damned one. II. We are like grass. Some always die, but most lift their veil in spring and renew. Recharge.…
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30 October: The Children’s Menu
The Children’s Menu It’s the nuggets.Always the nuggets.No sauce.He hates sauce. Can I substitute saucefor waffles, he asks.May I, says his mother.Yes you can, says the waitress. And he hates all the noise.It’s always the noise.Knives and forks and platesand the chewing chewing. May you turn off the noise, he asks.Can you, says his mother.No,…
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28 October: 02 Völuspá
Völuspá: The Stir They called her backfrom Valhöll, from green roots and stones. One hand on the rim of heaven,with no knowledgeof where she’d been. She is Vala,the seerer. She casts wordsacross her pearled stones, for those great and large,for fathers of old timesand early borne, for deeds of great recount,for their sons rearedto carrying…
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27 October: A Syzygy Poem
A Syzygy Poem A woman stands in the rain.Hat. No coat. No umbrella.No need. She won’t rust. Shovel in her hand, tendingthe soil. Bends and bows.Rain is her background. She sings around the edgesof a tune from her childhood,something about rainbows. A three-way split “Syzygy poem”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified…
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26 October: Disintegration
Disintegration Do you hear that?There’s an empty space in my voice. A void in my capabilities.To climb a hill, and exhaust it. Stairs by handrailsby step-step, step-step. Do you see the ghost of a womanwho could take stairs two at a time. Zero to sixty in 3.3 seconds.Off-piste.5K. I’m in danger of becomingmoss on a…
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26 October: 01 Völuspá
01 Völuspá (vou.lah.spá) Every fisherman thinks the sea is his own to fish. A man.A woman.Newly wed,Their sacred pledge rang out. He does.She does.But she wants him to be her earth, Now.Forever.Beyond destruction, and a serpent’s kiss. But to the seaHe’ll return,His first love, to fish its depths. And she eases her heartWith stars,And charms,Lit…
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25 October: Tristan and Isolde
Tristan and Isolde She was a fallen leafAnd he was the ground And the stars allowedTheir circles to meetFor the briefest of time. She knew purest joyAnd blackness of loss She was a fallen leaf.And he was her ground. Maria Callas – Wagner- Tristan und Isolde -Liebestod. This is the first opera I ever saw, and…
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23 October: God’s Seed
God’s Seed I know a woman who cleansdirt off a bar of soap. Her husband is a clean man,always smells of Wright’s Coal Tar. Spends his days on knobby knees,planting seed against the willof God’s own wind. His only mistress is the land —widely indifferent to his wife,who dreams of the day when his manhood…
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21 October: We Reigned
We Reigned Over Summer As a kid, I understood water.Dive in head-first, water seems hollow.Feet-first, it’s a brick wall. Sometimes I’d pretend to be a boat, capsized.Or an iceberg. Frozen. Stiff. Floatinglike a Poohstick. Then I’d wade outof the shallows, imagine every stone left dry and parched, fish flapping —all that water held in my…
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20 October: Ten Minutes Past Twelve
At 10 Minutes Past Twelve …he says he’s burnt the soup.How do you burn a liquid, I ask,and he says he just turned his back on it for a second, and it was toast. How does soup become toast, I ask,and he says marrying a poet is a bloody curse. Toast it is, I tell…
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