perfect

driving, i was at seventy miles an hour--
(think of it, seventy!) but with only five
minutes to my name, i thought, Perfection!
how for centuries we have chased you,
up these mechanistic alleyways and
back down these tree-lined boulevards; but
having won the chase we dismayed find
you were, pursued, much more.




10/10/08

well.

I suppose, if I was pushed, it wouldn't have to be all poetry. Who can respond to this? There's no surface answer to poetry: nothing literate, nothing spoken.




10/7/08

forgot

oh, remember me
in the currents of life more beautiful
and on the shores of the river i'll remember you.
oh, remember then
the hope we held so tentative
in the cool of the fall i remember you.




9/18/08

wrong, wrong, wrong

you are wrong, so
utterly and inconveniently and
shamefully wrong--
i'm embarrassed for you,
blushing behind closed doors
to think how inconspicuously
wrong you are, the shadow
of the memory makes me wince:
so wrong! and now the shame
is painting chestful anger, you're
not just wrong, it's more, it's worse
than wrong: maybe you're evil,
arrogant insulting hellbound and rude,
i never saw these things in you
before, but now it's so clear! you're
absolutely awful. i can't stand
you or your thoughts, but don't
blame me for hating everything about
you: it's your fault because (clearly) you're
so wrong. your error overwhelms me,
doors between us notwithstanding,
i resent your presence.
and yet, yet--
had i known--but it's too late now
to see love in someone so wrong!
too late when you, you, you
you're me.




9/16/08

nod

falling, falling--
and your voice snaps! like a
bookfall, binding first
on a glossy tile. i'm trying
not to sleep, not even blink
but there it is, still the
slipping fall of consciousness.




9/2/08