Category: Poems

said the sign on the library shelf
said the last page of the book
said the glow of the television screen
said the chair
said the symphony hall acoustics
said the path to enlightenment
said the signifier
said the question to the questionnaire
said the page not found error message
said the last few years
said the vacuum cleaner
said the half eaten apple core
said the cardboard box collapsed
said the broken vase full of flowers
said the fullness of time
said the pulse to the blood
said the eye to the window
said the pie
said the last stop of the bus route
said the grocery bag
said the current
said the holes in the cement
said the ink cartridge
said the button to the buttonhole
said the shirt to the torso
said the evacuation procedure
said the body
said the picture frame
said the patch to the rip in the fabric
said the weakest link in the chain
said the flower to the sunrise
said the blowhole to the whale
said the verb to the noun
said the pot of gold
said the corn to the husk
said the raindrop to the cloud
said the glue
said the plot of land
said the narrative
said the duck to the goose
said the wave to the microphone
said the light to the flash
said the hallway to the stairs
said the mausoleum
said the stain
said the brick to the mortar
said the ring
said the mouth
said the last words
said the empty.

This space left intentionally blank.

All this choreographed
falling, a series
of dives

in search of pattern
by way of seeking
restless

fluttering seams
pirouette
a turn

the motion is set
silhouette
in front

behind the kick
step lightly
against

your partner, alone
in parts attended
by tempo

or this: you’re so clumsy
if you threw
yourself

to the ground, I’m sure
you’d miss
at least.

Memory is a kind
of fire, sad drowsy flame,
electrical current
connecting one

moment to the next,
to now. Leaves under
foot disintegrate,
grass retains its texture.

You walk into space
and create what
was only nothing
a second before.

It repeats, circular
motion around the sun
for love, planets
falling into one another.

We didn’t make it to the party.

A wrong turn prevented arrival.

We lost all sense of direction.

Something about sloppy notetaking.

No landmarks for guidance.

If we’d set out sooner, that might have made a difference.

Or could figure an alternative route.

Adding insult to injury, the brakes gave out.

Then the road became just a pile of rubble.

Shots were heard in the distance.

We knew we were getting closer.

If only we’d paid attention to that sign a while back.

As the crow flies.

Now they’re circling us.

Our car has turned into a Leviathan, stalking.

We crushed a bunny rabbit and didn’t even procure an egg.

Stick a finger in your mouth that’s which way the wind is blowing.

It’s at the top of my list.

Any further questions?

Next time we’ll hire a driver.

Or at least a bigger car.

We’re already mapping out another party.

We have to be careful with our spelling.

And I accept all responsibility.