Daily Archives: August 8, 2016

Art And Fear

Originally posted 8/7/2012.

Under one of the caskets 
in the spare room I find
a book I’d forgotten buying,
a book titled Art And Fear.

I suspect
being under a casket for a few years
has made it a better book.
It smells like it soaked up
a little something while under there
and I think that makes it far more credible.

This is the part where you ask
about the casket.

This is the part where you ask
why I moved the casket.

This is the part where you realize
I used the plural, “caskets.”

This is the part where you hear an owl
in the distance and cannot tell
if it’s in the poem,
the yard,
or the next room;

this is the part
where you stay awake
long after you should be asleep.

One Hustle

My spine’s 
snake-curved and achy
after a bad night 
on an old mattress.

If someone saw me
from outside and didn’t
know this, they’d say
my walk to the bathroom
seems so casual, so slow;

don’t be fooled.
My pace has less to do with
urgency and more to do with
inability to hustle right now.

Coffee, then Aleve,
and then to work.
It’s a routine, a job,
one hustle I can maintain
and must maintain
and do maintain

as all the rest of my hustle
falls out of me
onto these hard floors
without so much as 
a bounce.