Straight (Away) Dangerous

2005-02-23T21:58:00.000-08:00

THE LAST DAYS

The Last Days of Johnny Carson

There was smoke and some laughter.

There was space for the hour glass.

The Last Days of John Wayne

He came a long way to find the saddle bags empty.

My last breath will be a horse,
a white horse, and cactus.

The Last Days of Bette Davis

Bees, there were lots of bees.

And they lit two cigarettes
one for the air and one for death.

But no one was there to see the canopy fall.

The Last Days of Billie Holiday

The blue was like breaking glass,
headlights – a rare variety of delphinium.

But all that mattered was the rising & falling of the rib cage
as sound became morning and mourning became sound.

2005-01-12T21:09:00.000-08:00

what will become of the morning and the light

the strange attempts

composing Elliot’s last line

in darkness and in light

unarmed in the glory of retail

Venice is finally lost

2005-01-08T20:31:00.000-08:00

after the long pause
& sea shells
we practice the art of avoidance

2005-01-04T21:16:00.000-08:00

we only hear hand prints
white paper and corrugated tin

floating

we have no words
grammar or god

2005-01-02T20:14:00.000-08:00

dressed in white, they prayed

2005-01-01T20:51:00.000-08:00

Voices, scored into
the waters’ green.
When the kingfisher dives
the split second whirs:

What stood by you
appears on every shore
mown down
into another image.

*

a doll, a rice steamer, a clock
drying in the sun

*
the fishermen have not returned

*
washed into the sea
these are not their voices

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Notes: The first stanza is from an untitled poem in Paul Celan's Glottal Stop, p. 1

2005-01-01T20:46:00.000-08:00

The place of vulnerability is also the place of poetry.

--Nikolai Popov & Heather McHugh, from the preface to Glottal Stops: 101 Poems, by Paul Celan, p. xiii

2004-12-31T22:49:00.000-08:00

in the square
there is no tin cup for change
only lace from a wedding dress

and a derailed train

2004-12-29T23:58:00.000-08:00

the dark call of leaves is open to interpretation
but the stranger, for once, is silent

2004-12-28T17:33:00.000-08:00

COLLAGE FOR THE DEAD
For those killed by the 12/26/04 tsunami

There came a stillness, and there came a storm,
and all the oceans came.
I dig, you dig, and the worms dig too,
and that singing out there says: They dig.

---------------------------

I was looking at them from another country
And I cannot tell their story.

Show me a word I can use.
Show me a verb.

Let them speak for themselves.

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"My son is crying for his mother,"

"I think this is her," he said. "I recognize her hand."

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To help relief efforts click here.

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Notes: Each stanza comes from the following source:

1) Paul Celan, THERE WAS EARTH INSIDE THEM, and they dug
2) Ariel Dorfman, Vocabulary
3) Bejkhajorn Saithong, Sri Lankan survivor of the tsunami, as reported by Reuters

2004-12-27T21:03:00.000-08:00

her words, a spider web
enters the universe
unsaid

2004-12-26T19:18:00.000-08:00

wandering without mercy
the stranger entered the room
the rest, of course, was left to chance

2004-12-25T20:38:00.000-08:00

Beads of salt spray stop me, like crying metal.
-Annie Finch, Calendars, p. 8

2004-12-25T20:37:00.000-08:00

it is cold, gray, and quiet
the pine tree in the park is dying

2004-12-24T14:22:00.000-08:00

across the great divide
white is not a color
but an essence

2004-12-23T18:30:00.000-08:00

this is the passing of a quiet light

like windows we seek
winter and the end

-in Memory of Agnes Martin

2004-12-23T18:27:00.000-08:00

the door is gray weather
there we see birds without wings

2004-12-23T18:21:00.000-08:00

the backbone is the ridge
no horse will cross

the hoplites have vanished