highways in the nuclear age,
I have learned to pronounce “love”
and to recognize my name written on trees
on rocks in the sky above. Yep, that corn’s
straight off the cob, mister. Then it said “I love
Dolores” in white paint against iron
on the rusted trestle. On my way to the heart
of American radio or summer. I was
going to see my friend the human. Do you
understand? When lips kiss and make
a seal, this is the first hermetic doctrine.
I wanna hold your hand. Is there something
I can do now? When the cello bow abrades
my breast will I dissolve finely into air?
Do I have to die for you then to hear these lines
that I make profligate and plaintive for you.
They are parallel lines whose origin is
irretrievable. Each one tells a history.
I remember streets houses trees overhead.
Someone called my name, my dogtag
whistles over here; over there as an adult
I want to thank my family for how I feel
this morning, living under a bridge
scaring children. An unforgivable geometry
insists its repertoire on our dialogue.
Learning to say “my wife my car my color.”
I have seen your thin purpose all my life.
So what is an anthem, and growing up there
is a lesson in it. When all forms have been
emptied can I begin? I doubly derive my body.
Running ahead of myself, beyond memory’s reach,
the source sprang incarnadine. Teeming
with information. Trembling my standard returned.
I knew then this body was not invincible.
Who shall know this posture, this morning’s slide rule.
I needs. I wants. A vista to combat the way
shadow splits and divides on either side
of a pelvic blade. Unity in strict notation.
Dear ghost. Dear reader. I have seen you.
And this at least is one definition, I include,
to become, who I call, myself. A remembrance
got on autumn footpath scurrying on our way
to life. So now when I line up and belong
to persons next to me, I’ll be good
and eat my soup. But I’m sick.
It’s getting harder to say now, this
exploded present, doubling back moebius
style on your gaze and the air thick
thick with tongues. You’ll say it’s too discursive.
But I have learned more from chicken soup
than all the bright contests. So praise
the retarded man serving me coffee
at the meeting, he has a place. Bless him.
And you think I’m kidding.
What did you do today for someone? Or rather
what have I done to sit here. Call me Dismal.
I wake up a thousand times a day. And ask
three questions. Are you shy are you lost
are you blue? Is there nothing left for you?
Only on holiday or for one holiday only?
From boneyard to schoolyard. All the good
it does you now. Waiting in a parking lot.
O pioneer your keel has run aground,
your stars have betrayed you.
There is no instruction for this light,
no room bigger than a lung. Who can say
in common speech what the crowds were cheering for.
Rushing in at the edges of the map
lamenting the end of the forest. Open the theater,
place the ring inside. A curtain of birds
and fish. A curtain of trees and hills
and vistas. Now bring about words to heal.
Sentences to bring about change. Grammar
that shall inhibit evil? Now: clap hands.
Father tell me what you think
of me. Is it a face or a factory? Come here
to distinguish the burden of a smile. Attached
to lightning. As the world was revealed then returned
to your sandwich. I am who sent me.
Obvious and otherwise a trope was. This laundry
line strung from year to year reaches
to the woman I am becoming. Always leads to my fear.
The difficulties of ambiguity. Or your smile
chosen. A vehicle that allows no passage beyond,
but the surface is bright. You’re wrong about clarity,
blue inescapable blue. Not a red sky at night.
What delight can I afford? Though
this might be leading nowhere. This is
