Friday, February 27, 2009

A Stranger Who Melts into Acquaintance

He wears
a woolen, cone-shaped tuque
which fails to confine
his rebellious hair
all during lunch
and keeps his
parka on. He is
an alert man
who makes jokes.
His glasses are
large for his face,
covering most of his cheek.
His eyes flicker from the
top of the lens and
most of the glass is wasted.
Always at the edge of discovery
he seems to be toying
with the world as if he
wielded its handle
in his hands.
He always chews something
which appears to taste good
and that makes him look

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

For Charity

Today I give away
all her shoes. I think
well maybe she will need them
but not for those turned feet.

It has been a rare day
of sleep and sentiment.
I try to protect myself
but I can't forget the
lubberly movement of her arms
when she tries to touch my hand.

The "I" and "me" she still
says, and the "mine."
I know what she is waiting for,
lying in that room
busrides away
across the snow.


Another week
of busses in the snow
and zombies.

Another empty Sunday.
I need a laugh,
running out of fuel.

Hearing how much
fun you're having
no longer feels like talk.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

The Hair Cut

It's alright mommy
if you take over my hair
as we sit together. You control
something that belongs to me
and I agree.

We are talking about hearts here,
good hearts.


Some girls
who don't even like animals
will wear orderly models
of kittens and bears
on their hands
and put emasculated
stallions on their backs.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

A Glimpse

As we pass a dark window
my eyes acquire
a slim wrist sparkling with highlight
and long fingers
pointing downward like an arrow
over a hip.

Stolen from someone
who had been a human stranger,
once gathered and possessed, the technicality
of origin evaporates.

Figures of women
play through me
like movements in a symphony
they bring yearning like music,
recall an absence
that can't be filled.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

The Shopping Mall Playland

even mid-winter light
is rosey and deep
in the place
where shapes
don't challenge

small globular people
roll on orbular color
under mild eyes
floating on
flowing songs.

Restless but Destructive Intellect

Knowing how
questioning is
the death of magic,
I can't help it.

I wonder why you chose me,
thinking it is some practical thing
human worth being like the worth of cows.
I never knew there was a market.

I am not demanding, too reduced to ask
which is a kind of perverse advantage in a man.
I am pretty enough to present in public
but not pretty enough to know it.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Existential Me

when the prayer whirrs
stirred by a cold wind.
What am I doing
stealing from the past
from the dead?

I rattle
knowing how alone I am
heading into a future
of unsympathetic strangers,
breaking roots
like a bum travelling a box car.


It came to life
on tv, the pullet yelling
out the virtues of fried chicken.

Gazelles and zebra,
bowing at the feet
of their lion king

say, death is better than disorder.
Holding out napes
the food calls the eaters.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

In Front of the Love Dealer

Why am I
so worried about love
if I live in a village?

I can see
the same faces every day.
Even when they don't

talk to me,
the voices drone
public happiness.

When I can borrow love
or rent it, why
do I have to own it for myself?

Monday, February 02, 2009

Now's the Chance

I can
devote today to the dark.
I tried to find the dark
last night
but sleep found me.