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poems on this page:

< concrete >

< shoveling snow >

< clothes for the sun >

< summer love in spanish >

< years of water >

< weather from the north >

< the red heart and the silver heart >

< the universe >

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              < concrete >

a condominium on the 23rd floor

one with a balcony

is NOT the place

for a poet

or even someone who pretends to be

a poet

you see

there is a sliding glass door to the balcony

and you open it and walk six feet

to the railing which is three feet high

and look down

23 floors

to

pavement

concrete with gravel

that gives it

a little texture

makes it

seem hospitable

but

from 23 floors up

it

is just as hard

as life

- - -

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        < shoveling snow >

today i was shoveling snow

and if you do it right

(lots of small scoops)

it's good exercise

you know

it's been the snowiest winter here

ever

well

i'm sure the ice age topped it

but at least since 1840

it's been the snowiest winter here

so we

(my dog and i)

went out shoveling snow

(well, really, just me)

and i take one shovelfull

after another

and my rhythm works

with the rhythm of my heartbeats

one thousand

(scoop)

and one

(throw)

one thousand

(scoop)

and two

(throw)

and i don't think

of anything but snow

white

crystals

fallen here

crystals

white

and me

shoveling them

the creation of the universe happens

while i'm shoveling snow

and the universe ends

while i'm still here

shoveling snow

this whiteness takes me with it this whiteness

goes on forever - - -

< clothes for the sun >

the sun sets

with its beautiful clouds

"clothes for the sun"

my dead daughter whispers in my ear

whispers tonight when the moon is waiting

(the moon is her keeper now)

and she

is playing in the forest

happy in the moonlight

with all the others

and she tells me i

will join her soon enough

no need to hurry

please

do not be sorry for me

i have this moon

and am many times the jewel

here in the crown of heaven

as i ever was on earth

- - - . . . < summer love in spanish >

on the beach

in mexico

the heat of the sun

is too much

and i lie in the shade

of an old soft drink stand

not a popular beach

so close to the power plant

but close

to my dad's office

i'm here

visiting him

my terrible spanish

getting a little better

walking the streets

just looking

reading the signs

ordering pan dulce

it's so cheap

and every bun of this sweet bread

is beautiful

so every morning i go and buy a bag of it

and eat it the rest of the day

carrying it through the streets

looking at the signs

trying to read them with my dictionary

writing letters to my mom

never mentioning you

- - -

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      < years of water >

i dream

of water

and the seals

barking

on the rocks

and i dream

of a deep lake

of navigating

the shores

of the lap and pound

of years of water

of willow strands

growing in a hidden path

of dark waves eating

through wet years

of escaping

and searching

for you

of the touch

of the water

of the fossil cliffs

rising over us

- -

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< weather from the north >

rocks

cliffs

morning breaks

with the waves white

the sky empty

waiting

for weather from the north

the last of a bright sun

followed by years of cloud

horizon to horizon

a gray cotton sheath

a dressing for a wound

the voices

the wind

the notes filled

the baritone waves

the chorus

the seabirds

the last of the sun

the bulb of the planet

it's fragile glass

sucked of air

evacuated

the sea boils

the birds explode

the rocks are

as they always are

the rocks survive

even the giants feet

the deep sounds

of their footsteps

of drums

slowly marching

with sabers and axes and

whatever else is needed

to render flesh to useful things

like soap and leather

as the giants of wicker

filled with men and women

start to burn

and men and women

watching from

the cliffs

the sea

are listening

to their cries

confusing them

with seabirds

and with children

changing them to music

only music

as the voices sing again

welcoming the clouds this time

welcoming the blanket

made of smoke

and silence

- - -

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      < the red heart and the silver heart >

the red heart and the silver heart

the first

filled with blood

the second

with the lightness of clouds

the red heart

a sharp knife

swings at your finger

never mind who

(maybe your other hand)

but the steel inside you

stops the knife

with the skin split

and the blood waits

and the two sides of flesh

are translucent

and the bone at the bottom

is white and gray

and then the blood comes

to relieve this paleness

to give it life

flowing easily

warmly

thickly

brightly

but later

it is almost black

the red heart

filled with blood

the silver

as thin as breath

watch a tree

throw itself against the sky

the silver heart believes

the tree

is the forked tongue

of some creature

buried

beneath the earth

licking the air

getting a taste of the sun

and the red

sees only blood

the red heart and the silver heart

on quiet nights

hear each other

beating between their own beats

hearing the voice of the other

hearing the voice of blood

hearing the voice of air

and between the beats of both

hear

the continents

miles down

rubbing rock against rock

singing with their heat

miles and miles down

the red heart and the silver heart

keep slivers of consciousness

magic

like the rocks are magic

living in the weather

that comes from the sun

and at night

the red goes on

the heart filled with blood

filled with the brilliant blood goes on

but the silver heart must rest

from writing down the story

from whole pages of hands

needing eyes

and much is missed

but the silver heart must rest

the red heart swells

again with blood

again with temples and sacrifice

of black obsidian blades

striking down to stone

with only a million ribs between

the red heart fills

and empties many times

and drinks it all as food and still is hungry

while the silver sleeps

the red heart and the silver heart

read the list of names

and they are always finding more

engraved in walls

printed in books

and the names they roll

roll from the silver

roll

into the red

and all the names

yours too

the red devours

- -

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< the universe > upstairs

the rice cooks

and i

must be mindful

of the time

the rice

is not forgiving

done

at a certain time

ready

or gone

i

feel like rice

feel like the long ago

empty plain filled

with rice or wheat or

if necessary

high stalks of corn

lighted by a full moons light

lighted so they direct

our

full attention

to

the flash of weapons firing

the mental

the physical

pieces of metal

fast enough to spin through you

tearing whatever cells happen

to be in the way

out

off

gone

holes

you or i

won't mention the blood

the red

the original red

not read

as you're doing now

but red

as the light likes

the inside of us

rejoices when the skin must split

must give way

to the pure color of red

becomes a fountain

celebrating

the end of life

celebrating

the constant suffering

which makes us

pure

even as the portraits of

nixon and

stalin and

reagan and

some germans i won't name

grin over us

yes

they don't understand

in their illness

in their constant need

for attention

but we

have only to look

in their direction

to help them

to kiss their useful lips

we

a part of the constant pain

of weapons

of words

of the separation

of germ plasma

of DNA

we are

completely similar

arguing for the fun of it

killing our neighbors

just like the crabgrass

ignoring

the continuity

of us and snails

tragic?

no

the continuity of time

requires all of this

we

are along for the ride

and we kill

and we burn

whoever

we

want

random

molecules

compel

there is no

blame

and

from a place

way too high

to lean

into the wind

to fall

over and over

pointing

if possible

pointing up

so you don't

see the ground approaching

see the ground

which

in seconds

will crush

your skull

your body

will end

all this talking and words

will end

all this questioning

will end

this complete vacuum

which we call

the universe

the self

- - -

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