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This Is One Way (Poem)
the thickening fug of uncertain outcomes
the digital unsteadiness of everyday life
outside the window a bird arcs
dirty feathered wings against the gray grimed sky
a woman sits reading in the rooftop garden
the pages of the book stark white amidst the buildings
I walk down the street for a cup of tea
from a shop where they know my name
our brief greeting warms the weak morning sun
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The Answer Is Idaho (Poem)
she idly wondered in the conversation
where does the time go
I answered Idaho it goes to Idaho
startled by this she laughed
then looked thoughtful
I explained further
it’s true though most don’t know this
Idaho has a huge reserve of buried time
just sitting there waiting
no one knows why or what to with it
or even how to access it
but if you run out of time try Idaho
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The Awareness of Prufrock (Poem)
when it happens and it must
will you sit beside the uncertain moment
stunned into a concrete pose
then begin to weep when you find your voice
and in this childish abandon
hear the work that you have to do
again and again until you don’t
this life short as any so now is the time
will you turn away in fear and say
I do not dare I do not
then grasp the banister tightly
as you hurry down the staircase
tripping over coffee spoons oyster shells
chased by questions of lingering intent
again the knowledge you have work to do
or not
the fog the dusk the narrow streets
the evening the tea the silent seas
the snicker and the scuttling claws
relax relax let go
no need to return from any death
be a prophet, a fool, or attendant lord
hear mermaids sing or drown beneath waves
all these already yours
breathe
