Daughter

Dappled morning

This young fella delivering the mail lets news from last night’s games

Spill from the truck while I

Grow a little older

Constrained by skin

So unlike the robot dog I contemplate

Having, becoming

Unsteady in the sunlight

Always want to be with you.

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Harvey

on the door of the high school my daughters do not attend the poster has been affixed Harvey…Jimmy Stewart-6-foot-rabbit-Harvey

Not hurricane Harvey

Not Hollywood crap Harvey

Flooding of one kind or another 

Reminds-me-of-all-our-befores-and-afters-Harvey

All the quiet people who always knew but not only said nothing but also, let’s face it-

Went along.

Going along will make a girl get mighty quiet

Or something.

Something close to a literal hell.

One Thing

The lady in the picture is a fraction of her whole-a bit of glasses, hair like mine.  Did she shape the assignment or was it the Wizard of Oz for freshman comp?  I don’t know, but as with so many words shaped into injunctions it sticks in my craw–pick the one thing?  Not a good thing?  Not one among brothers? I suspect literary ambush, which then feels like literary paranoia, but I kick around/go into the weeds with this one thing-

You.  You are the one thing.  The voice in my head steadying my coward’s heart. My man, Jesus I tell Madeline about that universal division of time into before and after You.

Like if you believed in evolution it would be 50 billion, million zillion years BCE, and those sylphish, wispy 2000 after.

After you.

Let me just

Tag along after you

Big brother

Strong tower

Never-leave-me God

When words fail

Poetry or prose.  

For the last three weeks I have had hives. Still have hives.  I have sifted words in and out of how this feels and each time all words have come up short.  They do not stop the itch. Like quack doctors, snake oil salesmen, or phone-a-gypsy psychics they play at reading my palms then leave me with no…

Balm

No remedy

No salve for my slowly metamorphic 

reptilian skin.

So I threaten them with silence or just undoing their fragile orthographic pieces unbending bes and esses into straight black lines

Because from geometry we know

Lines go on forever (in either direction)

Moving away from the itchy round helpless

Woman who once loved them

Out to the ends of time and light

To the place where God 

hears our wordless

Supplications.

Apophenia

not to be confused with epiphany, apophony, or even apotheosis, you nonetheless came to me in a dream where we were improbably happy…

Sing

Rise

Lie

Bind

Feed

Bleed 

Breed

Deem

All these lingual pawns arrayed for something.  Tug of the invisible? The inconsequence of a single human life?  

Spin them out from their mother tongue

Prophesy the child

Miraculously hypothetical

Salt marsh child

So reminiscent of your most beautiful 

Sisters