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A Surfeit

 

yesterday, all day, I suffered a surfeit

some hunger before then had entered my dreaming

and whilst I lay sleeping I must have devoured

whole mountain ranges, their ridges still covered

with crusts of late winter’s deposits of snow

and valleys just entering April’s release

of watery gestures

which beckoned their brooks in plain voices

to narrate conceited expressions of spring

brought with them  squirrels,

tree monkeys

that scrounge about gardens

which are wondering when

to arise and produce something gladdening,

crocus or daffodil, which should it be?

And I found in my throat a great forest had lodged

with its bare twitching branches and twigs lightly scratching

though I felt in this scratching

the faintly pink whispers of leaves in their bud coats

awaiting a signal I could not discern

and besides in my belly were birds building houses

or warbling so loudly I belched into song

so to quell this unease I was forced by sheer torment

to empty its contents upon this blank page

in hopes that the teeming and roiling within me

should cease if released to its natural spaces

these blue ranging mountains, wide verges of forests

and chorusing crowds of discourteous birds.

A Thought Induced By My Disease
 
An august evening
august for month and moment
but at first notable for nothing
unexpected.

 

An empty bedroom cluttered
with the studied scraps of life bewildered
by itself and grief.

A corner work desk
recent dust and old ideas float
and light upon a keyboard
set below a flick'ring screen.

A coleopteran
of unknown species
and a mammalian
described as sapient.

I am fingering
through fingertips to screen
my thoughts as old
as dust disturbed by
grief
in this oppressive evening.

He is perched above
on wiry limbs that rock
joints bent and flexing in a creaky sway
that tickles at my nerves
so tautly balanced
this torpid evening.

"What do you mean?"
I ask of him, like Poe
interrogating birds to thrill
an audience
with poppy driven dreams.


Two minute spheres collect my light.
Fine points of dark define a head
surmount mouthparts and
disappear beneath two
undulating hairs emitting
pulses on the air this evening.

I am one who has observed and triumphed
in my immensity and chiefdom over insects
each moment of my time ignoring million multitudes
of death and passing
numberless annihilations.
"They dropped like flies."

I must amend upon this quiet evening
my complaisance, felled
fallen, struck by stroke of
unaware antennae
communicating equations chalked on air
weighing my life as balanced with his own
he on one side of the sentence, I on the other
balanced alike
sentenced both to equal share.

Shall I be frightened, angry, or amazed?
Amused I am and tasting of the news
delivered on this odd and august evening
by so strange and slight a messenger,

but not slight seeming as I take him in
poised as he is atop my shimm'ring screen
and gesturing as though he is a mime
set up to entertain me with this joke

or challenge is it?  made to me this evening
not joke but joust, his weapon metaphor
my choice to take him on or blot him out
Do I accept?  Do I accept?
I do.

American TV Goes to War

 

confiding their knowledge to purveyors of news who ask over and over repeating

repeating the questions for watchers who stand by their irons and stoves and their desks

in their shops and their schoolrooms and in comfortable houses and places of business

and portraits of murder both professional and amateur, professional being bodies in

uniforms, amateur those of unlucky bystanders, no gender or age being exempted

but bewildered the same by their fortune uncalled for but given as a blessing

by men and machines from a world not their own crying, freedom, good freedom, pure

freedom for sale for simply the price of your lives and your bodies but not all of you, just

a few to pay for the price of the blessing that’s due to our well-equipped business-like but

playful and kind saviors of country and home and peace the peace of dead children, dead

wives, and dead fathers, the peace purchased dear by dead fighters dead husbands and

wives and dead mothers and daughter and sons

Americans at War

 

Born of a nation

both naively innocent

and riddled with arrogant guilt

Grown old

with jointly shared

violent fantasies

now watching

the business of warfare,

conducted coolly

dissected minutely

young men’s voices

calling directions

as if

in a game

just played

for the winning

the casual exchanges

that exhort to action

the equipment

of murder

refining and exact

and serious

interviews

with professional watchers

explaining the action

from all points of view

 

​

Bethlehem, Poetry Capital of New Hampshire

 

Suspiciously

I read the signpost’s brag

astride the highway.

“Warning,”

it signifies,

“poems under construction.

Read with care.”

A passerby

might tumble

unaware into a poem

and lost

amid the lines remain

forever mystified.

 

Above

white crackle painted cabins,

illumined in the air,

“You are a stranger here,

but once.”

The certain promise

drops like bass notes

solemn blown

from large brass horns,

this neon affirmation.

 

“Fin’s Fine Firs,”

alliterates another.

 

And one proclaims,

“The Three of Cups,”

its enigmatic name.

Behind the glass

a mannequin is held

as in a capsule

dedicated once to laughing ladies

chiffon draped in shimmying chemises

lips bruised, and eyes raccooned

mocking from beneath

small peacock-feathered caps.

 

Within,

two cups were seated

on small stools

sipping herbal tea

pooled in scant sunlight

borrowed from without

plain women clad

North Country coarse

clothes vast, thick-knitted

russet, green and brown.

 

An ancient lady’s chamber

this dream closet

strewn, festooned,

arrayed with vanities

of lace, brocade and satin,

velvet hats, veiled slyly

sporting rhinestone beauty marks,

long gloves concealing fingers

marred

by kitchen service.

 

Old women, young,

gay bachelor girls,

tired wives resigned

to disappointments,

daydreams

danced with brooms

of lives relived

nameless

lent this murmuring melody

of women’s dreams

a tone

to this tone poem

a thought

in silk

in cotton crisp

once white

now tea-stained, time-stained

yellow.

 

Two sipping ladies

presiding over

poems

one thousand ladies

lost

and found

among wine satin waists

stiletto heels

danced dull

on evenings under candy bright confetti

cast by spinning multi-mirrored spheres.

 

Bethlehem,

where are your poems?

Where is the poetry

in poet’s country…

cast like pennies

in commercial coinage

or closeted

with sipping ladies

amongst remains

of women’s whimsies

forget-me-nots forgotten

for a time,

but not forever?

Big Words and Little Words

 

War is made up of Big Words

and

little words.

The Big Words are for Generals and  Presidents.

The little words are for everyone else.

In war the Big Words do the Big Jobs

and

the little words follow.

The Big Words are

Strategy, Tactics, and Being on Plan.

the little words are

casualty, collateral damage and friendly fire.

Dazed By Comfortable Love

 

In your absence I rehearse

your face.

 

With imaginary fingertips

 I trace

 

across your brows a linear contour line

that slips

 

and edges sideways over eyelids

tending downward

to your lips.

 

Then dizzied by the liquor of  your breath

stumbling upon your smile I lose my place;

and though I meant to take the rest of you by stealth

in sensuous wanderings I return, retrace

the pilgrim journey deemed a sly surprise

when I am interrupted

by your eyes.

Elevator Etiquette

 

Announced in electric numbers its advent expected, awaited

the aluminum panel slides open revealing a cube of  stale air

kept in check in its boxy innards and lit by mysterious sources

It allows the breach of my passing into interior spaces

I enter assured of my safety to ride in this package of air

up and about in a building alone and quite easy in manner

But then I am stopped by a button commanded from elsewhere

and into my cubical passes another,

now what must I do?

How long will this stranger and I travel ensemble in silence?

Unbearable thought.

I must venture a subject of suitable content

to last for the length of our sojourn.

I should have expected this quandary

and prepared to be met in traverse

with a list of potential assignments

across a broad spectrum of texts

designed generically useful

for the distance and pace of each trip:

 

1 floor – a stab at the weather

2 floors – the weather in depth

3 floors – the weather last winter

4 floors – global warming in general and

                the drowning of New York in particular

5 floors – risk political subjects

                but speak with a smile and a nod

6 floors – look for signs of affection

                take a chance on romance just this once

7 floors – you make a commitment

                you can always get out at the next

8 floors – break it off as a folly

9 floors – reunite with a kiss

10 floors – stepping out hand in hand on the roof

                   look out at the city’s delights

                   reminisce on a lifetime together

                   and your trip from the depths to the heights

Free Not to Know

 

I am an unrepentant atheist

who loves the mystery of uncertainty

and the possibility of possible answers

to be both possible and impossible

I love an empty darkness so full of nothing

that every something is hidden there

ambiguity, guess,

maybe and perhaps

are my dearest friends.

Gloria in Excelsus

 

shall I attribute my euphoria

to spring?

why not,

it has its own excesses

of damp and noise and stink of mud

and captive smells

released from crystal tombs

fragrant gasses popping out of ice

and dropping verdure into poor men’s hats

but how explain this jigging in my bones

can it be fishes

tiny silver ones

that coursing in my blood mistake my bones

for reefs of coral

and nibbling at these whitish forms

peck hollow nests

in which to lay their glassy eggs?

no, I don’t think fishes

maybe birds

barn swallows which mistakenly

take occupation of my heart's great cavity

for mud nest building

take to soaring, looping, spiraling within

and bumping willy nilly

into my gas bag lungs

which intake sudden breaths

in frighted recoil

no, not birds

but something quainter, more absurd

if truth were told, it’s busy, tiny monks

each occupies a cell

and there are countless trillions,

such an army in all such single cloisters

I am become in veritas

a  medieval scriptorium

of scripture writing copyists

who wave ecstatic feather pens

and drip

illuminating inks

in splashes

over minute sheepskins

stretched upon small stands

inside my million billion cells

and frequently at intervals

they all complete

the gilding and embellishments prescribed

in copying their capitals

at once

upon such moments

and in unison

these microscopic holy men

cry Gloria in Excelsus!

reverberating fiber, bone, and protoplasm,

fluid, beating pulse, pulsating

Gloria in Excelsus!  echoes

Gloria in Excelsus!  in Excelsus!

In Suburbia

 

The naked earth gets dressed up every day

to go to a party thrown by her inhabitants

Unfortunate corpulence has created

unsightly bulges where

trees, grass, etc.

protrude in pockets

from otherwise neat undergarments

of  attractive black asphalt and cool comfortable concrete

Never-the-less she is suitably proud of her fine outer garments

tall brick and granite, glass and stucco, frame and shingle

side by side, close and tight, safe as houses

rising up and stretching out to almost obliterate

obscene clusters of

grass, trees, etc.

of which the naked earth is quite abjectly ashamed

Ladybugs

 

ah, winter is near

and clumps of ladybugs appear

like tiny grapes in clusters

in the corners of our house

Late Autumn on the Kancamagus Highway

 

From high above me

damp gray volumes

hung  vastly down,

curled soft at edges

scarcely moving,

quietly collected

cooling  mists,

and spilled them over rocky shoulders

of gray bristled beasts,

beasts watching over valleys

their lusty rooting snouts  

immersed in splashy verdure:

yellow birch and beech,

crimson maple, sumac,

rusting amber sleepy stolid oak.

Can you hear winter’s howl

under rooting snuffling murmur

sneaking early now

soft ice-forged steel to mow down

autumn’s tresses?

 

 

Am I like you

too drunk with easy seasons

to care for final warnings,

too drowsy with sweet syrups

dropped sticky on my lips

and scenes that fool my eyes

and irritate my senses

with bright articulations

of eternal autumns,

 

devoid of endings and

too beautiful for death?

Paleontological Limericks

 

An anthropocine name of gracile

Had hands and a jaw that were facile,

A true vegetarian.

Ask any antiquarian,

But further ascent was  impossible.

 

In human evolution neotony

Put an end to animal monotony.

After birth the skull spreads

Making brainful big heads,

And study in physics and botany

 

Cretaceous tree sap was quite sticky.

It trapped a young beetle named Ricky.

Getting out was impossible.

He became a bright fossible

In a ring on the finger of Micky.

 

A soft, feathered bird named Sam Kyle

Said,” My thousandth great grand's a reptile,

Not at home in my nest

Staying far off was best,

But the thought of his scales makes me smile.”

 

Why do living things come in this version?

Blame Burgess blue shale post immersion.

We've two eyes and a mouth

On the north or the south

Served up in the Cambrian explosion.

 

We arrived through quite natural selection.

Just how, science makes close inspection

Was it by kin or group,

Or in both in a loop

To arrive at this present perfection.

 

Prokaryotes used imitation

Without sex and without variation.

Eukaryotes finally

Took up flirting divinely,

Which led to complex procreation.

Ma Nature in Mud Time (Early Spring in New England)

 

Ma Nature gets up.

The blowzy broad creeps from under a sloppy snow cover.

At first only one large leg slides varicose veined and blotchy

into a pusillanimous and  stingy sunlight.

“Wher’ja put m’slippers?” drawls a voice

that caws like a flock of invading crows

and growls like bears come hungry out of holes

to raid bird feeders and topple garbage cans.

Eyes crusty in the corners, lips thick with sleeper’s slime

and nose stuffed with a long season’s detritus

she shakes

and damp cigarette butts fall off her head

like dead fleas off an old dog.

“Gawd, I’m bunged,” she bawls,

“Bring me a crocus!”

My Life As An Improvisation

 

exploding what

of uncertain days

weaving surprise

and give me all

jumping in jazzy

spontaneous meaning

meaning everything

and nothing that

can be measured

or wears a hat,

cannot founder

on limits of time,

syncopated living

in trivial time,

nothing too trivial

to be

important

or so unimportant

to be

nothing

One Act Plays

 

Enter Sophia

Blunt lady with no apparent abstract means

Sorts cards with her thumb

Doesn’t believe in love without some money

Looping film-strip of mind, can repeat in consecutive order

And will

All ideas contained thereon

Past Tense

 

When you speak of me in the past tense,

Will you still see autumn through my eyes?

Will you turn to glance at ladies

     dancing in romantic antique frocks,

And shelve my ambitious unread texts

   that fondly lean

   against your somber literary works? 

Will you leave a clutter on every kitchen counter

   to mark my absence like small cairns

   standing still where I would let them lie?

 

Or in that void whose darkness can’t be breached

Shall I be lost to you as to myself?

Erased, invisible, inanimate,

   quenched, and dispossessed

Sometimes

Sometimes I don't want to bathe
or comb my hair, or brush my teeth
or give my body any indication that
it deserves the least attention from
the one who drives it like a careless motorist
bumping into curbs, sideswiping other vehicles and
putting into the tank inferior products.

I would forsake it if I could
discard it like a worn out pair of shoes
give it a rest in an out-of-the-way corner
let it stand like an unused hat rack in the hallway
throw it out with yesterday's Sunday paper
keep it in the garage with obsolete cans of solidified paint
put it high on a shelf in a box in the back of a closet
reserved for sewing baskets, saved wrapping paper, and string
fold it neatly to be placed on top of luggage awaiting a journey
slide it into one of those albums filled with family pictures
taken at picnics, parties, graduations, and for no good reason
except a loaded camera and a sunny day.

Sonnets: Remorse and Resurrection

 

Remorse

 

A moment soft one spring I suffered you

To leave my life, as one drives off a dream

Disturbing, dark, untamed, to woo

An empty peace excused from fierce extremes,

And found in emptiness a death of mind,

A blinding dullness driving deeper wounds,

Than all your tumults tearing at my rind.

Days, your phantasms in my calm seas drowned,

Nights, disinterred, they demonized my slumber,

Reviving fires lost within my loins,

Unconscious cries to taste your sullen dangers

Dropped from my sleeping lips like worthless coins.

Frozen, awake in wastes without desire

Dreaming, I warmed at incorporeal fire.

 

 

Resurrection

 

A note announced your name in modest lines

And beat its fragile folds against my face,

Delivered from some other where than mine-

Unbidden pardon (for my loss of grace)

from silence suffered for a thousand days.

Ten-thousand frozen moments meas’ring time,

Rolled, monolithic, moving like slow waves,

Piled numbing on the margins of my mind,

Disgorging dull confessions of regret,

A thousand-thousand half-lives tempest shattered.

I’d thought your voice was lost to me; and yet,

Out of a mean, insensate void it fluttered,

And like a white and legendary bird

Breathed song to speech, significance to word.

Uninvited

 

Tonight I fall asleep to dream

of digging holes

and turning over earth

cemented by the roots of weeds,

unfriendly garden children uninvited

who play among my treasures roughly

breaking into cultivated beds and

snatching food from out the mouths

of neighbors never trained to play with

such rough and tumble characters.

I turn the clods, lifting weed mats

heavy with rich soil placed for my darlings

and shake them roughly, thumping them

against the ground to wrest from them

the nurture they have stolen.

Yet I know each one has left a seed,

a runner or a root to hold its place

until the sun returns from winter’s absence

and calls them up to terrorize

my garden once again.

 

Such an uninvited guest has

taken residence inside my body

to spread its roots

and so make me its own

that I must lose myself

to it and to my loves and

so to all my trees and

flowering children of the garden

and my autumn golden days and

finches waiting mornings

for small offerings I hang upon their garden poles

which seem like upright plants containing succor

for  these wayfarers of the air.

 

Can such a miniature intruder play

so huge a role upon the stage

for which my life’s embellishments were made?

How can so infinitely small a beast

that sense of sight and smell and taste

and touch and voice will never know

so thoroughly annihilate immensities of world

created by those senses turned so hungrily to life

and grind to nothingness that world,

that soul reality I’ve worked so tirelessly to make?

Am I Goliath and this thing a David

the proof that grains of dust can shatter mountains,

and that in truth

greatness and forever

are a myth we tell ourselves

when crouching in the darkness

lighting little fires

to fool the night.

Vacation

 

Your life takes you on a vacation from oblivion

your round trip ticket is booked in advance

arrival and departure dates are indeterminate

depending much on whims and whimsies

not under your direction, although

you may choose an early departure date,

if you are so disposed.

 

Coincidence and intent, luck and misfortune,

passion and indifference, glory and defeat,

ambition and resignation

you visit them all.

 

Generally, on your departure

a great “going away” party is thrown

After you return to oblivion

the crowds still faintly blow noisemakers,

wave a few faded banners

and then go home.

Visits from a Geothermal Fellow

 

He arrives presenting special pressures,

pushing heavy atmospheres before him

through  empty rooms,

trailing swaths of ozone,

and occasionally releasing

feverish lightnings; 

but mostly in a light absorbing fashion

drawing it into himself

creating vacuums

where once the air

was dense with light.

 

Like old Italian peasants wrapped in black

we villagers erect our small defenses

and wait uneasy

mumbling supplications

against forewarned but unpredictable events

that force the rising heats to break the surface,

punctuate the brooding airs

that swirl about his head,

and fulminate hot miseries

from out a gaping twisted mouth

embedded in a face that flows like lavas

into contorting and distorted ridges

torn by convection currents

waking from their dormant slumber

in the throbbing centers

of a troubling man.

 

No portent of these unavoidable events

has served to warn of their ungentle comings.

Chaotic science might presage,  explain them;

but docile, dumb we stand to meet them

holding to our old beliefs and flinching.

White Mountain Winter

 

Birch, maple, oak and beech shorn

nearly naked by October’s breath

crowd close, exposed.

These bristle brushes silver-gray and mouse,

mill on slopes like sheep

against the teeth of autumn’s shears.

Among them taller

stand straight shepherds,

green clad still.

Like soldiers

balsams, pines, and firs,

high hemlocks watching now for snow,

or wolves-

hulks patient hunkered huge above the flock,

sharp haunches

hung with clouds,

mist moistened shoulders hoary

dusted with first frosts

awaiting heavier weights

of winter’s wool.

 

Then will they shift

their slumberous sides, rise,

shaking frozen rivers from their flanks;

and multitudes of crystal fleas

in airy clouds

upon the forest sheep swarm

an occupying army

clinging tight to fragile hosts

until the earth

while pacing round its boundaries

completes a quarter,

turns the vernal corner

in perambulations equinoctial

and facing southward

into solar quadrants

trudges on toward April’s exhalations.

Fumes tickling backs of February sheep,

rub blooming blush

into blanched pallid tendrils

their fingers sifting

combing out small vermin

which lifting

drop again

as perspiration.

 

The sleepers stir accepting green and April.

The wolves relax into a mossy slumber-

heat pulsing in their hearts of rock and crystal.

The shepherds concentrate on cones

until September.

A hollow, globular, enclosing, and uncertain immensity

 

I am awake in the night. I feel myself hanging by a silk spider-like thread of my own making, suspended over a void that is the unknowable accumulation of days I will be assured to know, and an inescapable end.  It only appears to be a void, as its confines are undetermined.  I measure it daily with small incursions into its open, sometimes sunny, other times dim spaces by painting, writing, compiling biographical information, finding answers to insignificant questions that arise spontaneously, seeming to migrate to my head from the air about my life. These because they are beginnings and tokens of continuation.  But if the thread should snap, I’ll reach terminal velocity quickly or in a while, though when it happens that I am come to the boundary of my assembled selfhood I will not be there. 

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