Prayer-curse For A New Year
Coyote's bowed head in the flashlight
and the thickness of frost out across the field
is a sign of something in the New Year
A hunted thing - silence in the crook of a tree
mistaken for meaning and darkness
You could crawl in that space - live out a life
unexamined - the hermit - a cowl and staff ready
if only you could open your drawn-on mouth
On the drive home you cannot escape yellow eyes
the sign of possession in every movie ever made
The trickster god opens his mouth and fills
the world with flies and sparking lanterns
polyhedral dice fall in clatters on the tin roof
The sound of grass shattering is a year-is-over sound
a year-is-starting promise that could -
Showing posts with label hermit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hermit. Show all posts
02 January 2017
27 November 2016
Poem-A-Day #271 : My Trouble With People
My Trouble With People
There is
the sense that
we can only hold so much
The image of a sunset that one time in France when there were donkeys braying in the distance and the sunflowers caught the gold-ness and leaned themselves toward the nuclear power plant while the sound of dinner being cooked drifted up the stairs
That house had no windows just the thin aging wood of shutters and the cool plaster of the walls it was white with it it was beading cold sweat with it there was the smell of a wood pile everywhere and the hills around the place felt like lazy cast aside blankets
What memory
was erased
by this
At the grocery store we are standing next to each other by the frozen bags of vegetables they are candy-colored and delicious the bags make ridiculous promises about life lived inside these bags there are giants here
I do not notice that I know you and you seem to be breathing in my inattention which clouds the space like a mountain top like snow storms like the exhale after a cigarette you turn and I turn and your eyes flash at me like headlights on a curve at night
Perhaps erased is wrong
it implies accident
when a finger must press delete
There is
the sense that
we can only hold so much
The image of a sunset that one time in France when there were donkeys braying in the distance and the sunflowers caught the gold-ness and leaned themselves toward the nuclear power plant while the sound of dinner being cooked drifted up the stairs
That house had no windows just the thin aging wood of shutters and the cool plaster of the walls it was white with it it was beading cold sweat with it there was the smell of a wood pile everywhere and the hills around the place felt like lazy cast aside blankets
What memory
was erased
by this
At the grocery store we are standing next to each other by the frozen bags of vegetables they are candy-colored and delicious the bags make ridiculous promises about life lived inside these bags there are giants here
I do not notice that I know you and you seem to be breathing in my inattention which clouds the space like a mountain top like snow storms like the exhale after a cigarette you turn and I turn and your eyes flash at me like headlights on a curve at night
Perhaps erased is wrong
it implies accident
when a finger must press delete
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