Tag Archives: mountain

as I write with one foot
stuck in dark mud the other

unresponsive for reasons
I can’t discover lights

flicker throughout the day I’m
more full of fewer thoughts with

air enough for me to ascend
the brilliant sharp mountain

I have kept my pockets empty for
I have kept my back straight against through

years of small work and I
see the check on its way

before I’ve ordered it’s my fault
I should have gotten here as soon as

the neighbors finished dancing
on our ceiling and the sky

changed to business casual blue so with
my knuckles sore I crack another nut

but what if one thought survives
somehow the pressure of space

as the small stones crawl from the sea
wall after the grey is gone

and we work into the overhyped
night sponsored by what you would rather

remember a castle visited
through a dream that always asks too much

Recovered Notes on the New Planet

the sky moves so fast a fragrance like marshmallow


what I thought a purple crystal dissolved in morning dew


evidence of the old civilization if the light is just right on the microscope slide


meters into the crevasse wrongly assumed it was scree


fields like maple syrup over a fresh argument


a language I’ve yet to master sneaks into my notes


returning to a previous marker an acrid smell sunken ground


stuck inside the tent autocorrecting hail


rivers like a laughing bandage to forget the insults of rock


the way forward often loops around in sharpened midday rain


what I wrote on a rock ran away


this mountain like melted gnomes who to name it after


a quiet spot by the river eaten by these mineral teeth


the silicavore’s thought projections jostle the rover’s gyro


a fine web like cotton candy spreads toward the sea by evening


I think there are dogs in the clouds


a dry brown leaf and voices in the wind almost enough like home

build a little temple in the well of the clavicle golden light honey fig bread wine maybe this book will run through the clouds we see tending to the is it only animals who live on the mountain

storm in the forecast & all these chapped lips for the best adverbs to fry up this or any other burger so why does it have to fill up the whole page ants build cities with mouths as small as we could wish for

where a tooth unrecognized as rotten should worms long to chew as though a star covered in gauze in the forest shout what from the shadow of a younger life of a beneath centipedes cry and yes still these empty hands in the snow

other people’s postcards

and the problems you carried from home but
with new hats in the shop they said you
must visit after something muttered
about the mountain air some vista or

chirps back and forth in brightening dark cold coffee

though later and once the music mercifully
stopped and after the little chapel was
broken down and the beams
turned into pens for disappointed
tourists the sound of the little fountain
carried us
away

if we knew where we might go the precious
shell the shadow inside