I posted today's poem yesterday. And here, yesterday's poem today.
Which is about history. So we can all pretend it was intentional.
You, who read this what is it like
Who are your neighbors?
Can you see the Milky Way from the roof of Santa Fe
I wrote about trees in that house leaves sounds of spring
How like applause they are how ominous
The shape of an aspen stand turning yellow against a smoke-filled sky
Something I learned in the high deserts speaking
in riddles reveals what you want to hide faster
Or so they say I love that saying pure ambivalence
I was in a play about ambivalence in Santa Fe
Is the warehouse still standing?
They were going to put up shopping malls
Of course you should read this on the third bench from the middle of
the Brooklyn Bridge that is where I am
Of course you could be reading it anywhere Does anything even exist
since Coney Island and the cost of living and swine flu?
Did they ever put in that Starbucks on the corner?
I used to look in abandoned windows and think about living
I stood on the beach as they closed the gates on Astro Land
all balloons collapsing bull markets