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EVERYTHING HERE IS TOMORROW
For us, our day is almost done; gravity will take us right to the ground; watch the video without sound, read the poem without end, (that’s the poem we prefer) the past is gone but it’s what I know....
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A DREAM: HER LAST NAME WAS MUSIC
Her last name was Musicand she hit home runs.I was fortunate to encounter her often in my rooms. I avoided the sing-songyin her presence, but jokes opened doors.The college had athletes.It was the...
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LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE…
“I’m in love for the first time, don’t you know it’s going to last?” –John Lennon Sophisticated is always a little cruel.Judgment gains top place—Turning everyone it sees into a fool.And yet, through...
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LUCKY ENOUGH
Poets are those lucky enough not to suffer; if you think poetry is made of suffering, do not believe it; I could not have written had I not been protected—what I had written could not have come to me...
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EVERYONE NEEDS ROOM (WE’RE TIRED)
In this place where good is only known by how it’s able to knock evil off its throne; where the only way for good to cry happy and exultant is for evil to die; for good to have a chance to expose...
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IT PROVES THAT
It proves that what is most expendable in your poetry is beneficial to it. It proves that now cannot catch up to itself later. It proves that you will never be happy again. In what you are writing or...
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BECAUSE IT’S YOU
for my mother Now that this has happened I’m at my most unreasonable yet. I routinely think I know more than everyone; I’m religious, romantic; I always believe the world can’t be real. Now that you...
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WE WISH
We are incomplete nature— we belong to the sperm, not the fish. A minnow only needs to grow. We need to wish. We can wish palpably; I don’t need poetry to imagine myself seeking love from you. Readers...
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NONE OF US KNOW
None of us know anything. The best we can do is win “Jeopardy,” include, dutifully, footnotes, polish and refine as we say what we think to say, break the rule for the rule, obey. The respected...
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I TOOK FROM YOU AND NOW YOU LOVE ME
I took from you and now you love me— Gaining and losing, intertwined. Life decays: a one-sided truth for the ages. Spending is love defined. I took your time and you understood, too, never would I...
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THE TROUBLE WITH BEING LOVED
The trouble with being loved, is who you are, that is loved, will always be destroyed by being loved. I couldn’t see this when I loved, but as I am being loved, I see how good it is for my poetry. My...
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TODAY I WILL DO MY USUAL CHORES AND ALSO WRITE A NOVEL
The reason I am writing a novel today is because I didn’t write one yesterday. Novelty is everything. You can do whatever you say you will, and if you say it in a poem it may be a puzzling joke. “I am...
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TOO EASILY RESOLVED
Too easily resolved: retirement, death, document signed, pet cat loved, symbol of simplicity: rose, flame, dove, my poem, silent beast of words, crying out the dove is the best of birds, my poem,...
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EZRA POUND AND THE SPIRIT OF GOOD BEHAVIOR.
Ezra Pound in The Spirit of Romance, scholarly ruminations published in London when he was 25 by the cream of 1890s Fabian/Yeatsian literary society in 1910 informs us that the style of 19th century...
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WHEN I VERY MUCH WANTED TO LOVE
When I very much wanted to love, you presented yourself as a subject the most worth loving by the highest standard I was then able to define and the urgency was thankfully small; we proceeded...
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THE LIST DOESNT KNOW
The FedEx trucks prowl the streets delivering our Robert Lowell. The poets ruined their lives so their poems could make us whole. In the lives of indoor cats time quietly stops and inside her mind...
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I STAYED WITH YOU
I stayed with you but my poem was in-between. You were as red as the heavens. I reposed in green. My own green happiness smiled, my lakes had pleasant thoughts; you saw my calm happiness as I lay by...
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WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOU COULD HAVE HAPPENED WITH SOMEBODY ELSE
This idea came to me out of nowhere tonight— as when one notices a sound, a light which reveals in a certain way a room; it has nothing to do with anything; but it frightened me more than anything...
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TO BE FABULOUS
To be fabulous is to have sly and abstract ethics. The muse wants to get all Wordsworth on me as I notice no matter where I go nature uniquely wins me over. Trees never get boring outside a window no...
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THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE POEM
This should have been the poem where I sincerely renounced all poetry— saying goodbye to Shelley in hell, who I failed to write like— numerous brazen gods hated him too well. I was stuck in my...
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