Tags Along

March 11, 2010 / Arambler / Leave a comment

Methodist metronome
middle age middle C
mill Minneapolis
Minnesota Minnesota

River minor
deity Mississippi

headwaters Mississippi
river monk
monosyllables moon
moon cup moonless mosaic

tile mother
moths motion mount

mountain mountains
mouth muddy water
multimodal murmur
trestle muse muses

nagahyde naked
apes New England New

Haven New Jersey New
Jersey Shore New
Jersey Transit New
Orleans new soul new

wine New York New York City New
York fire truck New
York subway Newark
Airport newborn

Nick Drake

Nicollet Mall Farmer’s
Market night night
club North Atlantic North
Clark Street northern

Minnesota nostalgia
nudes nymphs

obsession.

Staged and Charged Up (Day 2,669)

March 10, 2010 / Arambler / Leave a comment

No photos ever of me
in Brooklyn. Some in Queens—
an Astoria fourplex with unfinished

hardwood floors. Manhattan all over beginning
inside the helm of the Flat Iron.
The Bronx north of 232^nd Street indoors

and out. Even one on Staten Island before
dashing across the Verrazano Narrows

Bridge. Where did they go? I know
they were taken
by the tiny broken locks

in my soul.
But I can’t end
on that—I’ll be the one

stealing, not having earned
the right to mention it—
the soul that is.

Fragile Spring: A Ghazal

March 9, 2010 / Arambler / Leave a comment

On quiet nights, fear makes me fragile.
Every damn sneer makes me fragile.

I just might break beneath my own breath
because what I hear makes me fragile.

Last year’s leaves rattle along the branch.
What’s no longer here makes me fragile.

Brief rains promise to reveal our aches.
The sky becoming clear makes me fragile.

Ice remains stubborn on the park’s pond.
Touching what is near makes me fragile.

Some animals won’t make it to spring.
Losing what is dear makes me fragile.

She’s a Liar

March 8, 2010 / Arambler / 2 Comments

The only part that’s true
is

the river. It rushes in
an early thaw. She walks down

to the rhythm
of let’s pretend

he sees it too, his boots
hitting her off

beat just so. Someone might walk
this way down

there to make an honest woman of her. How
would she know?

Fragmented

March 7, 2010March 7, 2010 / Arambler / Leave a comment

Sappho’s poems. Nick Drake’s last
songs. Tiger reserves. My memories, his,
that pier over bay
water. A hearse afloat. The underside
of a bridge. One car
on a train crossing
this river. The moon
most nights. Your love.
My faith. The sky itself.

Poetry Reading on April 3rd at the Fireroast Mountain Cafe

March 6, 2010 / Arambler / Leave a comment

I will be reading some of my poetry at the Fireroast Mountain Cafe in South Minneapolis on Saturday, April 3rd, at 7 pm. For directions, check out their website: http://www.fireroastmountaincafe.com/