Monthly Archives: October 2019
It’s in the space between the notes that you go caulking up. I fear it is the only thing you truly know to do. You fill in every nook and cranny. The air is trapped inside. Be careful as you do your thing. The whole thing could implode. And yet, there is a fire in your work. There is a tremendous amount of valor to your gallery. There is a serendipitous gathering of factual matter, and your timbre pleases me. But your shapelessness in those strict notes will be the death of me. Will be the end of melody. Will be the harmonious easement of a Mozart-like tremble. You’ll die penniless but not alone. Your masterpiece remains unknown. And the feeling in the beat goes out the door and down the street. Fleeting but neat. And she nods her head along and crashes, lashes fluttering at me.
The music ends. The silence envelops.
Summer In the City, Now
When it rains, I can hear children cry
when can we go outside and play?
When it rains, I see the shipyard’s masts
gone from their aching sails.
When it rains, there are mudslides,
but not where I’m from.
Where I’m from,
the fields go thick with ponds,
When it rains, the bales of hay go moldy.
When it rains, there is laughter in my ears
remembering my mother and a tall straw hat.
When it rains I think of lightning
and how our dog, Logan, hated the storms.
Huddled beneath beds,
inside the shower downstairs.
When it rains I see his black coat soaked,
I hear him howling afraid.
When it rains, my eyes sometimes do the same.
When it rains, my tepid nature rings true.
When it rains, our love goes capitalized.
When it rains, it rains, it rains.
When it rains, I can smell the grill still burning
outside from the porch.
When it rains now, I dream of chicken and rice
and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
When it rains I look sideways
and see you sitting there
reminding me of the rain
and that the rain means so little
without its memory.
When it rains, I sense him somewhere close,
reminding me to see that it’s only raining
until the sunshine floods and speaks so true.
Rain or not, I’m glad I’m here with you.
So this is a marriage!
Lightness and darkness intertwined
with caustic wit,
erasing all that dangles by a golden thread.
So easy what is thine
to duck into a world of mimes
never singing at all
or even nodding along in time.
So this is October!
Leaves slipped from once-green canopies
drifting down from their boughs.
And skies go greyer,
and the sun parts earlier,
and the chill in the air
like a subtle acupuncture,
to heal in all from without, within.
So simple go the days.
And so here comes Christmas.
Yes, the only thing distant-
the feel of warmth’s embrace.
A call on the wind streaks impressions
on my soul.
My mind gimps onward
yet gathers what is sure to soil
serpents on opposite poles.
To step softly into death
and go laughing.