Annunciation
He walked in slowly and he was stooping, not too much but just a bit, and he said abruptly and in his monotonous tone, don’t worry if I’m not walking straight I’m just a whiff tired, no, not too much but I have something to tell you, to ask you, it’s maybe not an important thing, but in fact it does matter to me that we discuss this thing together because you know Alissia, and she knows you, you may convince her, I have already told her but she didn’t listen, she never does, I never figured out in what kind of a world she lives, now suddenly she’s bizarre, not the Mom I always had, or that I thought I had, and it doesn’t matter, we’re going through a crisis, a serious crisis, the first huge happening between the two of us since my father died and God bless his soul.
Duties of an English Foreign Secretary
Moon, refrigerate the weeping child
and guard his stony brook.
There is no thing between the woods
Pastel
Remain saturated to the point of hegemony,
all these trees tinged with dropsy dystopia,
heart on my sleeve bridging its last beat
Egress
So, if I were to cup your alibi in my hands, softly as moth- dust & to slip its squirming, body below my tongue, where would these envelopes end up?
Two Poems
A man walks in through a nondescript entry and is presented with a catalog of boots, so that he may choose according to his whim, fancy, or usual preference: cowboy, knee-high, stiletto, fur-lined, fisherman, mid-calf, Wesco, hiking, rain, and the like.
Nown
Hop hop hop
goes the busy noun
following its chosen object
around like an angry bee, but mor
Sidereal Noon
jumper cables in bloom
die hard fans weigh in on the victory
it means nothing
Winter in You
Have I seen such a tower
Her fleshy, spectacular hand
Would the dogs not find
from “LISA ROBERTSON: SEVEN WALKS”
The First Walk We are guided. We are we. Foxed and shaded, sliding over the surface of civilization which is reading behind us or reading inside us is a civil contract shattering in its choices. There is the Styrofoam cup and the paradise that is likely not quite ready for us, crushed. The petal in […]
Two
macho sam and his tattoos i like playing hopscotch i like to cross the street on red i’ve got a tiger tattooed on my chest and a sheep on my left shoulder sometimes i forget my woman in the drawer sometimes i lick the ink off the dinner plates i love myself for a few […]
