Saturday, October 31, 2015

Preparation for a Memory

I bring to the shower a fresh
bar of Ivory today,
along with my towel.
We always keep our
bathtowels separate. The
old bar has eroded
to a sliver. I always
enjoy something new.
I am grateful that she
remembered to release the
shower lever when she left
so I am not greeted
with a surprise dousing.
The water is nicely warmed.
I wash my belly first,
the center of my body and
under my breast where I have a
benign cyst (as my old doctor called it).
I wash my arms, saturating my hands in the soap,
under my arms. Then under my belly then
down my legs. My legs still feel tight and
strong. I am glad for that.
I leave my feet for washing with gel, later,
because I can't reach them in the tub.
I wash my neck, passing my hands around it,
then graduate to my mouth and my nose.
Around my ears, I take special pains because
I once found a whitehead behind one.
I wriggle my finger in each ear
hoping to catch a residue of wax.
Then I scrub my scalp. I use the soap
not having enough hair to bother with shampoo.

Thursday, October 22, 2015


It's time for
the red organelle.
The blood has
stopped flowing and
the link to the
present is severed.
She falls from now
where the trees
stretch their experiments
toward the sun
up through holes
in the air,
down to the cloying
darkness of the collection,
into the accumulation,
back in time
to the place of origins.

Sunday, October 18, 2015


Sunnyside Queens

You should have seen
the corpse's apartment.
It was a spray
of pipedreams
that must have been
so familiar,
remembering alone:
I am,
I am not.
Sweet vapors
in a cloud of pipedreams.
and quickening hours.

Wednesday, October 07, 2015

Poetic Theory

Not satisfied with reality
that does not joke,
I pull your leg a little.
My theories
laugh like tall tales,
lines of waggery.
That creature in the sky
with flesh made of gas,
funny red hydrogen mouth
beams and tongue
lolls about
over teeth.