I Don't Read a Novel

I open the book

Black worms swim in a white pool

I close the book

I open the book

Red stains spread  on a white tablecloth

I close the book

I open the book

A child’s blue footprint is disappearing in the drifting snow

I close the book

LFM

I Dreamed of Nothing

Finally

I dreamed of nothing

But earlier in the evening it was all trouble and

Resentment, rehashing disappointments

Though I cannot say that I am over it

There is something in me that

Loves more and still and

So will make this sleep

A seedbed out

Of the wind

Well watered

And  see

what

grows.

LFM

Good at Last

Good at Last

Late in the day

I realize I’ve actually

been watching for you all day

and you’re not coming

Bent into prayer position

planting where dandelions

with some effort were extracted

my hands and back are just plain tired.

It takes a surprising amount of

strength and perseverance

to untie

the knots such work ties

and if you add to that unconscious

efforts to keep head and spirits up  

you get hot pain served with

a side of cold denial

How good at last

to stand erect and stare down

passing clouds without pretending

they resemble anything

LFM 6/4/2013

American Post-High Education

American Post-High Education

After work

Juan’s eager to head home

(he is young has a wife)

so we make sure his Dodge is pinned in

Everyone is talking baseball

when a storm of

cottonwood  (who knows how far those

immigrants come) gets

everybody quiet.

“Well, okay you guys” I say to fill up 

a silence as big as

the gym where we

played ball and danced

 

“Okay” they say

moving toward

the doors to

Morrison’s “Gloria”

It’s cool because

it’s never too late

to catch some

young girl’s eye.

Walking the parking lot

I say to no one

“The size of the setting sun

is an illusion

created by the

dust of the earth

and the curvature

of its spine.”

In the truck

I wonder if the one

you chose to drive you home

ever even fingered an original equipment

dashboard choke.

LFM 6/4/13