Tuesday, May 05, 2015

Silvery & Brittle

Wherever one can be comfortably ragged, the loop
of morning does a special lay down and die thing.
Everyone needs to get away now and then to place
where the kitchen hums in a different tone than
back home. A place where the body feels relaxed
perhaps because it is contingent upon some
imminent death. The staples are all in the sheaths
of paper, giving a real sense of purpose to
the morning. The birds all flit around the sugary
water and tiny golden seeds. The sun hits the breast
of a male House Finch and for a moment it looks
like its been lit pink from within. The skittishness
of birds makes me anxious, I do not find them
relaxing to watch in the least. I'm establishing
a sense of the texture of things through touch.
Montaigne's Venetian turpentine served on a wafer
with some sweet syrup on a silver spoon.
What are you not willing to feel in the desert?

Sunday, May 03, 2015

After Dinner We Took a Walk

I feel certain granular happiness
as though I've broken into myself
from an adjoining body. In this damp
playpen known as a pool, people bite
towels and shout at bugs to appear
old-fashioned, like Montgomery Clift
saying something sweet and disconcerting
between puffs of a cigarette. My alacrity
is dour. The chief task of this day
is to be a receiving port for a ray
of light, so don't pull the shades,
even if the sun fades the paintings
and turns that walnut table blond.
My experience of life up to this point
is that blur between us, a hazard light
flashing on a foggy highway, but I digress.
The grapes I ate in pain will endure
in another part of my body. I'll have to
flush myself from the system, turn pale,
turn red, and whatever else seems
sensible in the desert.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Nine from Governors Island

Thank you, LMCC.

Six Memorials for poets on Governors Island

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Robert Musil

"You load the space that surrounds you with a charge of increasing strength. The difference in intensity between imagining and actually being there becomes a joy that I feel."

-Robert Musil, from: Diaries: 1899-1942 p. 179

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Three gold ones & a party

Forget About It

Tuesday, April 21, 2015


Monday, April 20, 2015

Three Color Swatch Pieces