poet, interviewer, musician, traveler
oranges
she always has oranges
and books about math
we watch from nearby
as we wait for her table
like hungry vultures
it looks warm outside
but it isn’t
there’s a cold wind
blowing through the afternoon
inside we’re sitting
on either end of a seesaw
trying to find the spot
where we used to balance
25 March 2013
Auburn AL
the hardest working pet rock in Alabama
my pet rock, Larry, got a job this week
he’s serving as a doorstop in a dollhouse
I told him he didn’t need to work
his company is payment enough
for the roof I put over his head
but you know rocks — they’ve got their pride
Larry came from a stream down the road
part of a haul that included The Ladies
and the more serene Buddha Rocks
it’s hard not to like Larry
he’s always smiling, no matter the time
always there with a quip or a kind word
in many ways he’s quite like the Buddha
no real ego to speak of, except for the pride thing
but even an enlightened being
has to deal with a bit of pride now and again
Larry gets home after dinner most nights
he has to wait for the little girl’s parents
to give him a ride back from dollhouse duty
he seems to like it and I’m glad he does
as long as he’s happy, I’m happy
24 March 2013
Auburn, AL
the shambly man
is bent inward into himself
his arms come to rest naturally
around his stomach
he’s hunched over
walks with his knees pointed in
the woman sweeping up
and the man behind the counter
are laughing
not at him, as you might worry
but with him
because he’s saying something funny
the shambly man
is driving a rust-red
Jeep Wagoneer
with buckets of ice in the back
like its owner
it has a few structural issues
also like its owner
it’s still moving
80
I turned seven in 1980
and if someone had told me
but of course no one could have
I realize now they were much too busy
trying to grab hold of their own whirling chaos
in 1980, for example, my mom turned 30
nine years younger than I am right now
twice married once divorced
with a baby and a small boy
it took years for me to understand
there would never be a moment of closure
a moment when it would all become clear when
every sin every error every slight would
be absolved in a rush of salty tears
rather we would just go on
until we stopped
which we have
dead
21 March 2013
Auburn AL
what might have happened if
(for Jason Molina, 1973-2013)
I’m listening to Jason Molina
it’s my first time
he died the other day
he was the same age I am
he went to Oberlin
he played the guitar
sang wistful mournful longing songs
and other songs too
the L.A. Times says he died “after
a long battle with alcoholism”
it’s in the obituary twice
I don’t know the rest of his story
but I know there certainly is one
a rest of the story, I mean
and a rest in the other sense, too
a sad death, a flurry of mentions
makes me wonder
what might have happened if
20 March 2013
Auburn AL
/ / /
You can stream and download Jason Molina’s music here.
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song for a dusty road
emerging from the thorn bushes
into a stunning March afternoon
I chuckle when I think that up north
my kids had a snow day today
my sister went ice skating with her students
not me — I’m pedaling my bicycle
down a dusty dirt road
bouncing over jagged rocks
on tires that weren’t meant for this
all so I can dive into another set of bushes
in search of a matchbox or a pill bottle
or a metal case full of comic books
left by someone I’ll likely never meet
so that one day, under the hot sun
I’d come to this place with a smile
and a rapidly beating heart
looking for adventure in a way
I’d nearly forgotten
19 March 2013
Auburn AL
/ / /
This poem was inspired by geocaching, to which I’ve recently become addicted.
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karahindiba
sold by seedsmen for a spring wonder
from root to blossom
karahindiba is a flower
for cultivation
rich in micronutrients
used for many conditions
karahindiba is the shape of the leaf
is a valuable herb
is an indefatigable windbag
karahindiba is called the rustic oracle
its flowers always open
karahindiba is believed
is healthful
is perennial
grows best in full sun
karahindiba is a common meadow herb
the new kale
an aggravating lawn weed
karahindiba is good for you
18 March 2013
Auburn, AL
/ / /
I was stuck for something to write about (or more accurately, I was trying to avoid writing about a particular thing), so I turned again to Charles Bernstein’s Experiments. I asked my friend Sarah to pick a number between 1 and 91 (she chose 77). That experiment called for a Googlism search on a word. She picked “dandelion.” I then took the results and arranged the words into this poem.
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his master’s tombstone
“Amos Wynn, born in slavery
at his own expense he had a marker placed
on the grave of his former master
erected by a white friend 1947″
— on a marker in Baptist Hill cemetery, Auburn, AL
near the cemetery gate is a marker
to commemorate Amos Wynn
who saved up his money
to buy a headstone for the man
who had enslaved him since birth
the marker reads erected by a white friend
oh the happy slave
who was treated well
who loved his master
who grieved when his master passed
by all accounts they were friends
Amos and the man whose last name he shared
not through birth but through possession
when his master died violently
at the hands of another
Amos worked and saved
borrowed and begged
until he could afford to place the stone
that his friend’s widow never placed
it’s hard to know what to make of all this
the natural tendency is to be angry
to feel — on Amos’s behalf — that it’s all a lie
a horrible misrepresentation of history
a false telling of Amos’s inner life
but perhaps harder still to imagine, to accept
is that he might really have loved his master
for if that is true, what else might be true?
17 March 2013
Auburn, AL
something about the sunlight
it’s something about the sunlight
the way it hits your skin
here where the ghost keeps his lonely watch
over actors and students
or maybe it’s the way the universe expands
even faster in your presence
like the stars and the planets
are eager to please you
I know how they feel
as I drop what I’m doing, fling open the door
rush into another gorgeous afternoon
in search of adventure
it’s not the destination
it’s not even the journey
the real key to a joyous life
is whom you take with you
16 March 2013
Auburn AL
known unknowns
how to calculate the circumference of a circle
which towns are north of me and which are south
how to make you change your mind
which person is “you” in the previous line
where the treasure is by the fence in the cemetery
whether I should go there or ask them to come here
what’s going to happen in the morning, or any time
exactly what happens to the air when I breathe it in
how many feet of intestines I have
or why they get all bunched up when you come around
which person is “you” in the previous line
the distance from the Earth to the Sun but maybe I do
the distance from the Earth to Mars
and how many little robot explorers we have there now
what will become of my sons
all seven of the deadly sins or who came up with them
what you look like when you’re completely at ease
which person is “you” in the previous line
15 March 2013
Auburn AL
/ / /
I got home tonight from a night out with friends and realized (a) I hadn’t written today’s poem and (b) I had no idea what to write about. As I often do in those situations, I turned to Charles Bernstein’s Experiments and chose #92.
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her life is poetry
she’s worried about not being a poet anymore
but her life is poetry
twisting, turning, emerging into sunlight
she’s worried about not getting it all down on paper
but it’s written on her skin
in the lines where she smiles
in the soft tissue between her fingers
on the walls of her reawakened heart
14 March 2013
Auburn, AL
we can be like this
for Jo Wallfisch
tarting with an amazons trapeze he said
no she said i am flying and singing and
wasting your time in the air he said
making beauty is a revolutionary act she said
what is beautiful about a ukulele he said
all the beauty in the world she said is in this moment
you sound like a goddamned hippie he said
she said you should come up here with me
you’re out of your nut he said i would never
just try it she said and see what i mean
if i try it will you come down from there he said
if you want me to i will she said
ok i’ll come up there he said just for a minute
hang here next to me upside down she said
he said this is crazy i can’t believe i’m
don’t talk she said just be here just be
…
…
…
…
he said i’ve never seen the world this way
there are so many ways to see the world she said
i’ve wanted to do this since I was a child he said
here she said take this ukulele and play
let’s stay here forever he said and never go down
we can be like this even on the ground she said
13 March 2013
Auburn, AL
/ / /
The singer Jo Wallfisch posted a video of herself today hanging upside-down on a trapeze and playing the ukulele. Her phone autocorrected her caption and that became the first line of this poem.
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surefire recipe for a good lunch
1. beans and lettuce and quinoa
2. a little lemon and olive oil
3. a sunny table on the lawn
4. exactly the right person
In a pinch, all you really need is #4.
12 March 2013
Auburn, AL
the kiss
it’s the obvious thing to write about
how it took 19 years to do it
how even then it was too late
or maybe it was perfect
life happens how it happens
I’d like to think we’re better for it
11 March 2013
State College PA
children are sweet like feathers
children are sweet like feathers
children are fiery like the sun
children run when others walk
children walk when others run
children are strong like water
children are fast like hours
children love to jump in puddles
children hate to get in showers
children are fickle like the breeze
children are curious like a cat
my children make me very happy
and that, my friend, is that
10 March 2013
State College, PA
/ / /
The title and first line of this poem were provided by my son John, who turns 7 tomorrow.
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