Saturday, October 13, 2018

YOU WILL SEE 


You will see
I don't

use the word
"plastic"

in my poems.
That's because

poetry
and plastic

so seldom
overlap.



Friday, October 12, 2018

LOOK 


Look
at what
I talk

about,
and what
I don't.

This will
help you
define

our art,
what it
is, isn't.

See?
It's not
so hard.



Thursday, October 11, 2018

IT COULD BE 


the furnace kicking on
or the train coming through town
or a jetliner overhead.

All the things it could be,
it is. You take apart
this world at your peril.

The house is warm.
The freight gets moved.
Passengers arrive.

What we think we know
comes back to haunt us.



Wednesday, October 10, 2018

WHY AIR? 


Why air?
Because breath

requires it.
Why white space?

Because the answer
lies between.



Highway 285, Mile Marker 132 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 285, Mile Marker 132

The difference is distance.



Tuesday, October 09, 2018

AT DENVER AIRPORT 9-12-18 


The angel she is
doesn't know she is.

Her eyes say, "I know, right?"
referring to the dogs

on the woman's lap
who's in the wheelchair

she's pushing. "I know,
right?" my eyes agree,

and she pushes on,
the angel she is.



Highway 20, Mile Marker 28 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 20, Mile Marker 28

Snow
on the mountains,

How the storm
works them.


Monday, October 08, 2018

GIRL CAUGHT IN MID-MOTION 


The push of her
against herself.

The tenderness.
Her angular

loveliness.
All the things

that she will be --
suddenly.



Highways 60/84, Mile Marker 362 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highways 60/84, Mile Marker 362

The short grass bleached
in this sun and somewhere

hope for an old poet.



Sunday, October 07, 2018

Highways 60/84, Mile Marker 366 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highways 60/84, Mile Marker 366

Sky
at the end

of the
universe.

I have
been there.



Saturday, October 06, 2018

Highway 70, Mile Marker 403 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 70, Mile Marker 403

Owl and
eagle
and hawk.

Railroad.
Men
at work.



Friday, October 05, 2018

Highway 70, Mile Marker 377 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 70, Mile Marker 377

Sometimes a bird
and sometimes

a piece of trash
caught a bush.



Thursday, October 04, 2018

Highway 70, Mile Marker 372 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January  2016

Highway 70, Mile Marker 372

Snow hides in shadow.
The jackrabbits have
not been so lucky.



Wednesday, October 03, 2018

Highway 70, Mile Marker 363 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 70, Mile Marker 363

When I speak of God,
you know I'm speaking of
the star dust which calls us.



Tuesday, October 02, 2018

Highway 70, Mile Marker 347 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 70, Mile Marker 347

This land reminds me:
I have what I want.
I want what I have.



Monday, October 01, 2018

Highway 70, Mile Marker 340 


from
NOTEBOOK: NEW MEXICO
January, 2016

Highway 70, Mile Marker 340

This greater flatness,
short grass, and cattle,
a long way from home.



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