September 18, 2016

first autumn sunday

drizzle caught
in a spider's
net. berries
dangle beneath
belly soft sky.
shine struggles
in its missed place.

September 12, 2016

Poem for the fallen (Dedicated to Fallon Smart)

sitting at a cafe's sidewalk table
sunday afternoon, black irish tea
and a chocolate chip cookie, late
summer sun palms the right side of
my face, my cheek.
traffic crawls past the median's
memorial for the fallen
girl who tried to cross
the too wide and impatient
street, anthology of
Italian women poets
lays open on my lap
as a tawny young butterfly
upon its sunkissed page.

August 16, 2016

I get high

I get high 


the chemistry I have 


the curvaceous 

cannabis clerk 

August 10, 2016

David Eagleman quote (and flowers)

"Each creature perceives only what it has evolved to perceive." 

-David Eagleman

August 8, 2016

the sweetest hello

early august overcast reminds me of but does not spell rain. alone with whoever may enter, how long since the sky caught & released something besides shine? berries appear like a box of clothes, abandoned on a corner, waiting to be picked. spontaneous sweetness awaits you. i pull the clouds over my head & drowsily tumble down the steps, hooded. i am asked for a story which i don't have & feel around in the pockets of memory for enough shattered calcium fragments, floating there in the slick, to shell something soft & personal to give them. but can you really trust met flesh, as if no one has ever lied to your face, your heart, or your belly? what will the unborn know of you that the crows don't? stray morning kitten, tiger in training, friends me on the sidewalk beside the raspberry bush. collarless & sweet but does not cross to other side with me, where i find a crow, crouching on the pavement, its wings tucked in, head lifted, beak open as if it meant to say something it could not say to the barking wire above. i look up at the crow that's been barking nonstop, like a knocked down boxer's trainer in the corner, yelling at him to get back up. i turn to leave, not wanting to interrupt whatever has to happen, when i notice the other crow, watching in silence several feet down the wire. i nod to the one who knows & continue toward whatever awaits me. as i enter the circle, a beautiful woman from work who worries me, walking around with her head down, as if crouching inside herself, rounds the curve on her bicycle & startles me with the sweetest hello.

July 22, 2016

You Exist; It Ignores Me by Andrea Zanzotto

You exist; the season
ignores me, leaves me all shivers;
endless strawberries in the woods and apples 
in the countless rains

Pure summer consumed 
by strong winds
lit by love

and quite another flowering 
that means nothing, weighs nothing,
and this impromptu afternoon
so I may take leave of you

With you green now 
with fogs and light-shafts
you save me, I see again 
among blinding riches.

translated by Ruth Feldman & Brian Swann