Saturday, March 23, 2019

Supple singed

This morning
had a rainbow come through the panes
ate it off my breakfast plate

felt the fertile soil of the valley beat
under my hot feet
on the hot concrete

and will crack
hard slew will come up
one of the hundred million-year plates
shall roll over us

mess with the dead and they come in your dreams

This morning
the dog I put down came on the breeze
stinking lovely as she was
dozing in a spot of sun
Sweet Pepe arrives through the buckling screen

and the Buddha comes also to me
warm squinting lifted snarling
depends whether
I myself am supple
or singed.

(After Peggy Stone) 

And now

in the midst of my handiwork
poking through the din and the silence
I hear my neighbor sobbing
and I remember

he has lost his wife

he has an aria playing
and he is sobbing

and I look out now of my reverie and I see the bars of rain
I can only see them now
bars of the gently falling prison

bars that fall and rise
with her voice
his aria
his wife

my neighbor goes on sobbing and I see
things I don't see always

he is alone in his grief

it is as this work is
but I would like to go to him.


Sometimes Of Course You

don't have a choice
sometimes your lover gets ill and dies
and this brilliant vibrant compassionate person
full of wonder

but remains in your heart

whatever is comfortable for you
staring through the abyss of the nucleus
this is what she offers you

rain bridges
north poles
the sky nail

a black hole

you will cross dark space on the wings of blackbirds
you will become the self-sustaining furnace
that you are
and your wife will exclaim
in wonder

and she is with you again.

Henry Grier Stanton

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...