20 January 2010


A long one today.

Phrase (1/20)

            Grass = greener

I am watching a couple holding hands - I am watching fingers
loop over then rub at the knuckles

This is on the Q train into Manhattan - it's one of those new
sanitary cars - chrome blue and ghostly

They are leaning into each other - tired - she is nodding
at his shoulder - his head bobs on hers

My gloved fingers are still cold beneath layers of leather and
fleece - it is a golden sunset as we reach the bridge

The water is glass - buildings are glass - it's all so reflective!

            A bird in the hand

The two weeping cherry trees stand sentry at two sides of the path

They touch the ground with thinning fingers - trace something there
in the dirt - unreadable to human eyes the sparrows hop about it
and seem to be nodding at each other - knowing

The trees will be black and bald all winter - laced in wet they weill
shine like horse eyes - oil on pavement - they will drag their knuckles
against the earth until April

Then they will be pink

            Eggs - counting

            re            birth

I'm trying to see it there - in the puddle of frozen grossness
on the corner of Bedford and Sterling

Inside that ice is paper, filth - things I don't want to know
            it is opaque with it

This ice is so full it cannot reflect - it is nanotube black
it is the darkest of dark matter

Re            birth
            I'm wanting to start over - but I want to keep my history

            Why put off -

They wake up as we reach Chinatown - hands tighten
they collective sigh

There between the fragments of skin a fire starts - invisible
to them - but it envelops my view of the city

As we slip underground they rest - the twig fingers relax
and the tiniest buds begin to form

I am looking at my own covered hands - deep in their winter
and I am unmournful - I am solidly waiting

Opaque - filled with things - waiting to reflect