Monthly Archives: December 2009
Was It the Best She Would Do? (Day 2,600: Take 2)
A stanza added to three quiet ones— it could become a record of the commotion caused by one silent train rolling in, another one about to depart.
Filed under Overnight Poems
Church Bells of an Agnostic
Church Bells of an Atheist Agnostic There’s a soaring chime that can’t be recorded. A murder of them takes over the northern sky as another day crumbles into itself. Come again night. More than six of them, six beats to … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Rotate 180 Degrees
Silver Lake on the way to work. Is the Actor Happy on the way home. A black charm knocks the train off its rails onto a parallel ride through some serious winter air. En route, I lose all ability to … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Vic
Deceptively simple, deceptively broken, some collision of Southern Gothic with Stevie Smith’s “not waving but drowning”—I know so little. All I can do is keep listening to the music. That’s what’s left to do.
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Black and White Sky Over Loring Park
A winter’s civil twilight breaks open a black bird swarm. That caw commotion over church bells reveals how little she knows.
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Inside Emerald Village
Hands over hands—a grip. Kiss the knuckles to grasp the meaning of love without words.
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
December 24 (Day 2,593)
Half page ads peddle faith in 45-minute segments by the hour on two campuses. And a website to worship. A faltered blizzard reminds her of her own faith—how it works better without a forecast, without a Twitter account. Not a … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems
Winter Solstice
A man in the corner of the corner bar sings “Moonshiner.” A beat-up harmonica gets swiped across his mouth between lines. She’s returning from the dark side again—bottled water to her lips.
Filed under Night Poems
Leporello
She wails when he plays it. If only those bellows were paper, she might forgive her father this disturbance. Her mother says he’s a little off key—she should know. But that’s not it. Her distress is buried in the mechanics … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
