it must have been an hour or so
that I sat and strained was it screams
or through too many panes laughter
or worse I thought that was bone bumping
glass there again do I ring the filth
and ruin two evenings or save one
life or am I adding one and one
and getting mayonnaise or am I
next up on the newstainment prank show
I hear some express affection as
though they were paid by the decibel
but it’s hard for me to imagine
or maybe through slats my wide eyes
helped them coin a fresh entertainment
Tag: eyes
-
-
try to write a face the eyes aren’t
right teeth crooked the wrong way the
night cold the flame hidden I make
another cut so long but too
late across the blue ink sounds of[inaudible] but leave it there
even if it barks all night will
never invade the earnestness
of tiny drinks while the bright blackso tight we thought the stones in our pockets
might help us too with a few tweaks
it could be the scene of your first triumphbut let’s not crack the old door anymore
those dreams are grand but I wake a headache
-
despite our poorly thought out plan
for the ancestral garden gnomes
I can even without glasses
see what’s coming on this muddy
trail as we bear the insistenceof another infection a
brief pollen starscape as we stop for tea
any future tortures could have baguettes
bagels brioche bialys andbaskets of buns though we see our
most-ignored manifesto won’t
help to fill the syringe beforethe eggs from that red insect we forgot
about hatch and we lose more than our eyes
-
Sonnet
but what we got was some sequel
made for the merchandising rights
so let’s instead unpack this strange
light after a summer storm near
evening with its light bouquet of
back pain—in those glowing clouds you
could believe the benevolent
aliens might pop down for tea
and cake and perhaps slip you a
few space-time secrets but they fail
to arrive again so climb to
bed and nudge the little dog from
her pillow throne and sink and sigh
chest collapsed but eyes on the sky
-
shopping with my eyes closed and the fist but there is still space for a three point turn the car alarms deep into a special night when the landing was postponed sure every other day is a fine place to start but I know you’ve already tried and for all the good it did I may as well have had decaf but there are the inconsequential moves we make that turn heavy when it wears off and of course I have to admit that these lullabies are lovely so many things to click before retiring with that same headache under the same lonely star
-
such energy though these eyes still blurry
but the day begins early & takes the blame
for every flattened patch of fur on the highway
for the last two weeks and what do I know I
wasn’t there but you feel the flies surround
you & maybe we got off on the wrong
foot and maybe that’s all there is now
in the still heart of the great machine a
few sparks with dances to come and yes we
can agree that I use the word too often
but it’s still the right one for the job and
out in the forest it sniffs a mushroom
and moves on since the field guide’s at home and
doesn’t want to take any chances
-
There’s this river underground
the birds sing of it as though
it were a gem as though a gem
were something they had interest in
though perhaps my translators
but no don’t let me blame them
this river at times packed
with grey slush moving fast
enough that the fish wish they
had eyes but here on the lost
real estate development the
philosophers have left
with the fabled food trucks
that won’t return
-
a nest feathered with fingers sticky from pulling out your eyes
(First published in Under the Basho.)
-
at the organic cafe unsure of your unwrinkled hands scraggly long hair scraping fine features the constellations of pimples your rough shirt dark stained apron standing tall and to the side you grant a glance and goddess you were all beauty pink cherry trees burst and burst my eyes wide as fried eggs
-
I lift the pen but why my eyes slide down this poison face
but the sound of a bird I can’t
the glow of the sun
sinking what
else can I sayI waited too long and they’re already cleaning up so I grab some trash and throw it away they tell me to keep moving
when I slept in the forest those long years between research grants
salad days between immunity and editing
people always said I gave up too easily and mostly through song for some reason but that’s really none of my business you see I’m only paid to write these instruction manuals
leafing at monster cello sorry
it’s these new plant-based teeth
and the weight of this uniform from lack of sasquatch in the spring
did you see it that time like a flash of silver at the corner of your eye but never mind it was nice to see you again and we really should get together and no that’s OK I have utensils at home
other animals 