Monday, December 26, 2011
Lines from a year's worth of failed and unfinished poems
* I know you are there / on the outskirts of the city, tweeting your location / to a sleeping world. * We wait for a Jerusalem to take shape, beyond sea / and sex... * Unexpected caesarian – / hips too narrow, they said, to deliver though premature. * The earth is letting go of us. * Nothing Hanseatic about this league / of ours. But if they call you homewrecker, they’ve got it wrong – * I wanted to keep you pinned / in the womb, medicated, sewed up / so you couldn’t escape / the life to come. * Weeks since our goodbye in the metro station, / the one that left me tongue-tied, word of you comes / by word of mouth. * I could not keep up when push came to shove / and we pushed toward love with sightseeing as a viable backup plan. * Sometimes cropping up / in drainage ditches after floods, flash bushes / flattened out in drought and papered the trenchbed. * The television spire, minareted above the city center, pricks the sky, pulses light, / beacons, blinks as we exit onto grey platforms, momentary us / spilt to each... * Blue river. / Water and it’s watery stare – / tributary to oceans, / unceasing susurrations. / Apple / of my eye. *
Tomorrow is August which means more dry heat here in Santa Fe and a start to another round of 30/30, Tupelo Press' poem a day challe...