Monthly Archives: March 2010
Listening to “Sandusky”
I must learn how to describe each tiny movement from solid green to a yellow brushed with red breaking into orange without these blocks of language. I turn up the volume when this instrumental plays—sweet guitar sings vocal lines, the … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Chiasmus
What if I were the one standing on a stage—you were below it, looking up at me? If it were as simple as reversing a spring trench coat, we would have pulled those sleeves through their fabric-framed sockets by now. … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Self Curate
If I were a museum, I would adopt the ampersand before at. Swirls of entanglement mean more to me than a spiraling into sense of place. If I can’t have home, I’ll take the plural loci, the many phases of … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Say the Word—Hotel
Hungover without a drink, journals are meant to be written— not read. Why does she keep them? Why toss them out? She could donate them to a sculptor who might rehab their pages into fiber and matter for a piece … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Father of Minneapolis Parks
The first in the city to have electric lights. A hinge to flex downtown lane over lane flung onto outdoor sculpture with a cherry on top. I’m at the bottom of this brown hill imagining a summer evening: Civil twilight … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Missing. Period.
If I were a typo, I wouldn’t want to be discovered. I would hide in the middle paragraph in the middle of an incomplete thought You might create me, but you’ll never know me or the impact I might have … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
No Molesting Vegetation
I want to make a wish at an artesian well. Take me to the old comfort station near the 125-year-old iron footbridge. No longer providing relief to men, women, children passing by, it aerates the pond. Who will aerate me? … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
It Being March in Loring Park
Cattails mashed and embedded in what’s left of the ice shield over the pond. Ducks float in the free flowing water, other birds hop along those complex layers of solid. I see that same old wooden wagon unhitched beside the … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Female Jonah
A yellow cab double parked, medium-sized U-Haul behind it—I know these getaways too late, arrivals too early. When moving in becomes an art, it’s time to reconsider the vessel. Above or below it, I just want to crawl inside the … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
