Tag Archives: poetry

L’Eau and Behold

One of Passover’s big themes is water.  The Sea in the Desert sets the stage for crossing the sea, coming through narrow straits, through a “birth canal” towards your own life, passing from received ideas towards self-awareness and freedom, singing in … Continue reading

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“What Me, Cruel?”

April stares back at us and asks: What me, cruel? Because mournful windowsrattle in my winds and pots tip over, green with rust or lichen? Because hairs on your bare legsshiver like crocus? She finds us in her glassy eyeand springs:  You … Continue reading

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The Heavy Click

Because the couch didn’t mean anything to him –the guy I knew in my 20s who hightailed itevery time a girl moved her couch to his place.  Because he was foul-mouthed and funny, it stuck; I high-tailed it also, livingon my … Continue reading

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In-Betweens of Mud Season

Change of season: vital transition:Material transfusion: new juice.  How does the introvert welcome that? Mixed.  Don’t make me give upheavy curtains pulled to nurturemy wild interior!  My own twigs being burnedfor my inner heat and observation. Observe what comes upfrom winter’s meditation. Attention to … Continue reading

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The Dirty Socks Part of March

We’ve entered the dirty socks part of March, the dingy linen stained grunge metal time when winter’s rough hide pokes up in earth’s skin.  It’s the shoulder season – not white shoulder, not tanned shoulder – the prickly wan unexercised but … Continue reading

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Passion of the Slighted Chapbook

Once we become aware of something, we start to see it everywhere. The long-ignored thing, which existed but meant little to us, asserts itself with a vengeance, a passion of the slighted and overlooked.   Thus my relationship with chapbooks, small … Continue reading

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Fat Drop Song

February gives us thinking waterstrees of dessicated lacereeds hanging on memories of yellowness The pause, the somnolence, the hard work between the desert and ecstasy Then shoots of crocus grow fresh nervesin last night’s snow banks.And fat drops of melting … Continue reading

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Secret Face – Upon Observing Barbara Kruger’s Installation

A parking lot with rain:How jagged the concreteHow silken its puddles Its poured-out watery silhouettesMagic concentric circlesFast like a dazzling tap dancerWhose moves outpace the eyeOr a spinning vinyl in black light How the mind anticipates what it seesHow a camera … Continue reading

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Winter’s Other

Lushly, thicklya polar bear hibernatesunder our infinite skies,  in our midst:bristling white visiting behemoth. From my tiny pane,I see its heavylugubrious breathing see its lungs, and firrise and fall in branch and mindand rise again.

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Memo for the Next Year

When I said I believed in lightness, I wasn’t kidding.  Over and over, I return –not to escapism or fantasy or ostrich necks–but to dissolving solidity, breaking up the world’s fixity.   My holidays – as if a wild angel came reeling from the … Continue reading

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