April 2010
6 posts
SOME NIGHTS WHEN SIDEWALKS
Some nights when sidewalks
show
the world above
as a blur of paint
without fields
without flowers
it seems that this is what
the rain was
for
To offer skies up to themselves
To plant quiet meadows where the sleepless drift through
ghosts of stars
THE GRAFFITTI ALONG THE SHUTTERS AT 24 PRINCE
OOFE!
Before the cops could come
before
the store would open you threw down
this one quick word:
OOFE!
If they forget you now
for everything
you’ve done
the girl in greenpoint
who has every
thing
they say you should hold dear
perhaps they’ll think of you
for this quick scribbled
word
as though in pain
you’d screamed your name into
the night
THE FIRST BUDS
Sprung greenly into life but
lost now
for words
come slowly if
at all
The wind shakes their heads
in disbelief as if
this isn’t what they
had expected
Morning Poem 040710 - Prince St. Cleaners Inc.
Each Morning he stands in
Khaki shorts and flip flops.
With that drag, knowing nod
and sackful
of clothes
is he
Mafia boss, dealer, or dry cleaner?
Morning Poem 040610
At the door, Winter turns for last look at who she’ll leave behind.
Casting eyes greyly upon an empty street she coldly blows us one long last kiss.
Morning Poem 040510
Birdsong from the ghosts of birds
woke us lapping the shore
of tired machines
whose deep crawling breaths made me think of mountains.
And the old nest
The tangle of confetti in branches
reaching skyward
seem as slow motion fireworks
stuck fast mid-flight with
all the promise of celebration