Saturday, January 30, 2010

Daily Living








Through gritty scratchmarks in my memory,
I see the small pockets of light
where I reside in a matrix of gray.

Dashing into my nest
to escape the impossible
has been alright since

hollow granules
filled with ice cream
run through the gravel.

Emerging from the hole,
like the captive loving the kidnapper
I am going to miss my Winnipeg in Winter.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Straight and Narrow Path

I see the real people
whom I have stolen
to make my fantasies
and I feel a gust of shame.

I know what I should have done:
quietly lived, eating wholesome meals,
shut up and earned my living,
painted my rooms,

hugged my children,
bounced my granchildren on my knee,
been satisfied with real basics,
and quietly died.

Vagrancy

Sometimes the road
leads through tongue whippings
and you have to be strong
even though you feel
you have been tossed
out of the one place left.

The tongues are incorrect
even though they are hard.
As you flinch down
like a little boy
the door will open again
and someone will tell you
it's still yours.

It never is
not on this hard planet.
Owners are owners,
renters are renters.
Whippings along the road
remind that you are
just a visitor. Home is
just where you have to be
most polite.

Monday, January 18, 2010

A Wish for My Dreamer

Watching yourself
in the early morning
adding plots to your dreams.
Like time was a set of tinker-toy blocks,
set your dreams in motion.

Make up good dreams,
I say to her
as we are wishing good night.
Please don't frighten yourself, my dear.
Make dreams that give you joy.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Before Dawn on Tuesday

I wake up
naive and entangled,
not remembering
I seek refuge
in the world
to escape a dream.

I don't recall the dream
except that it contains
indebtedness reappearing,
impossibility growing,
insects,
reluctant discovery.

Saturday, January 09, 2010

Why I'm Not Crazy

1.There is someone.

2.My hands learn
to meld with the
fur of the cat.

3.I pin into words
the ghosts that kink
and shoot them off on missives.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Visitations

When I think of Joyce tonight,
I'm subject to the justice of the void.
I can wish like a child
but it will not come true.

Winter is
the best time to think of it
when my coat is not enough
to keep out the truth of the cold.

I can plead
that I had no choice but I merely watch
another tightening of the vice
and listen to the alarm drawing blood in my ear.

My denials
are like a child's eager wishes.
The elders, faces darkened,
shake their heads.

He knows,
they all say,
deep inside he knows,
as I pound my fists on the bed.

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

The Arrival

A human being
is a heavy weight.
You can't expect one
to arrive lightly.

Not like a feather,
not on tippy toes,
body behemoth
making great waves in its wake
A human being blasts everything.

Boom!
The big guns
in the harbor sound.
The weakest run.

If you will have me
I will change your life.
And I will join you
but only if you laugh.

Sunday, January 03, 2010

Altering the Portrait

Everything looks
too placid says
the creator.

The dark face
merges too much
into the wall.

Let us, he says
using the plural,
crease the space

and vibrate things.
Let the yellow
stripe.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

The Visit

In the two hours
that held us together
she spoke in nods

bound by damage
pain and sleep,
as if there were only

a vacant body there
who could not
be entertained.

Until at the moment
I put on my coat standing near
to say goodbye,

before I kissed her head
and replied in kind,
she said I love you.