Monthly Archives: February 2010
Dog Ear
I am a page torn but not easily removed from the journal you didn’t keep. I’m a face in the crowd you can’t look at but recognize with your eyes closed. I’m the book you bought, thought you’d devour, never … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Tiny Changes at the Last Minute
Accidents no longer mistakes. Nothing about buildings or fences, not another bridge, a scrap of graffiti rides out on the 11:45 train. Her net is small, her heart large. She just wants to take a closer look then let you … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Set Up for Reverie
A hinge creaks, the trap door swings opens. She passes through. It’s these details. They weigh on her. She’s not catatonic—she just can’t complete her day dream. She needs to fill in all the blanks. Where? What begins in a … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Spillway
Scotch on the rocks—the ice sculpture would have lived on for months up here. Someone decided it was time to get smashed under this loading dock where caterers lock down.
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Into the Lens
A waking smirk paints her face young. Her daydreams have become pages from old journals ripped out, restacked, sewn back together in an order she believes would have sustained such animation. Plagiarizing is alright as long as she doesn’t plagiarize … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
Peel Away
She lives in a land of layers/she wants to break free from cumulative strength. Why can’t her own skin be enough? Pulling them apart, flattening them with an old press, she wants plains and straightaways to be enough poetry to … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Weathering Rock
To fall down the rabbit hole of regret is to roll in Georgia red clay mud without remembering it was once dirt. It will be again. To sidestep and walk quickly by is to begin to accept rain without pretending … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Not a Thief/A Thief
A tiny stuffed brown bear in the snow in the city, she rescues it because even inanimate ones need shelter. Or, because she can’t erase the concrete image of careless disregard, active rejection. She wants to build a story from … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Long Player
Cover the Murmur railroad trestle in snow, it is still going to be there. Look up my sleeves—nothing hidden but a dusting of time on my forearm, a ring of vinyl never played around my wrist. That I like the … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
aka (Day 2,649)
She thinks she hears a confident blues guitar play across the alley. Or, she may have just read a caption to a movie— it’s come down to subtitling her own language again.
