Daily Archives: September 9, 2010

Retired Hands, Working Mouth

When my hands retired,
I learned to lift things
with my mouth. 

Why bother, said
my friends?  You know
you’ll drop them, leave them
lying around, and give up entirely
after a while.

It’s good for me, for all of us,
I replied — I let my hands
work hard all my life
and let my mouth run free
and lazy, talking up stupid things
and adding nothing to society.

Now I have to think — how to bite
and hold, how to raise weight,
how not to break teeth and tear lips
and gums…and of course,
far less needs to be said,
or even can be.

I’m committed to this, I continued.
I’ll give my hands a rest, they deserve it,
I’ve abused them so, and as for the dropping
and eventually giving up —
well, that would have happened
anyway, someday; and isn’t it
nice to have the quiet?

Blogged with the Flock Browser

One More About That Day

The sky’s never looked the same since then

I often look up without breathing
I memorize escape routes
I travel light
I have named all my guitars
I eat carefully
I open doors for dogs and breezes
I dress for running and sitting on lawns

The highway’s never been slicker in the rain

I hydroplane on purpose often and have learned to adjust my skid
I love others when it is comfortable
I forget where the speedbumps are right after I cross them
I stream planetary influence
I articulate every word to ensure understanding

Forward motion’s become a mere suggestion

I sleep on the couch a lot
I’m afraid to sleep too long
I flash the news anchor though she cannot see me
I hear rodents in the corridors of power whispering

When the anniversary comes around I dance frantically

I am certain of the time at all times
I watch the hard freaks as if they were prophets

If there is a place to stand I conceal myself nearby

For I am unable to imagine a time
when I will place the day in perspective
and allow myself an instant to proclaim my witness
or let myself forget the ongoing ruin in my gut and groin

I cannot imagine how I will ever
Let myself fall into the symbolism of flag and anger
Admit empire into my smoldering eyelids
Dust myself back to clean gray flannel and silk tie uniform
Make myself believe I’ll return to being an innocent fool
who doesn’t know how to run and duck and cover and choke
or who has forgotten that such skills are necessary lessons
of the years that have passed since then
as monstrously as the burning of once-privileged skulls
saying to me always
that for some
there will never again be
unquestioned safe passage

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Observation

reflecting upon myself
in the puddle that always spans
the bottom of the street
after a storm

according to this
I’m unstable

but my feet seem to be
holding the ground

here comes a car to stir the waters
and wipe me out

my feet hold their ground
as I’m drenched with the spray

I don’t care enough to move away

feet on the ground
soaked through
it’s tuesday
rain’s over
car’s gone by

still here

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Snow Gum Trees

the snow gum trees
in the backyard

continue to tremble
though the wind has stopped

they know
their time is coming

the bare time
when their blanched limbs will blend

into the white that covers the ground
that will then sleep for months

a reflection of what they maintain
all year long

seasonal tribute they consider their due
for holding up against a world

that does not love their steadiness
preferring inconstant green

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Tags: , ,