Wednesday, February 12, 2020


Watch closely
there is nothing in my hand
except maybe for my other hand

listen I am just making all this up
for our mutual benefit as I go along

hacking at the thicket of quiet
with inherited machetes
troves of words dulled but trusty

toward the grove of a possible future
which could enfold us both

when we're inside
it comes as a relief
simply to be included in the mystery

but just the same I ache someday
to do work that is real

I know this is wrong but I
still believe it
my heart is an engine

my brain the grim determined conductor
this body the aggregate
of loud black iron tunneling

headlong into the formless newness
the sheer insouciance
of tomorrow morning.