Poetry – Page 18 – swamp pink

Sight of Love

—–LAKE CHABOT | SAN FRANCISCO | 2019 Across the surface, the men of this coast— ———the lakebirds, grey reflections skimming east ———across the lake. At the edge of three years ———I hold Scott’s hand, our reflections floating to the bottom— ———pennies, floating like boyish desire in reverse, milkweed-pink & faceless ———with rust, as I hold...

The Boy and the Boy Looking Back

The boy says, to the mirror, I am good, I want to be good, I am good, his mother hurrying him to school before her work, his father dead from not being good to his heart, the inevitable weight, the boy knows, of his whole life ahead of him, how the boy will be asked...

What Is a Video Play

No one knows. The pandemic instigates it. I’m your conduit. I hosted the party on Facebook with no intent to clone, copy replicate, volver. Someone I love did not attend. Sappho said throw it again.

Personal Protection Equipment

Look elsewhere—eye contact creates an agenda Click the Manage Participants tab for public health Touch only your surfaces If you feel others, it can become severe Close contact with the virtual is waiting Unlike an in-person event, make it kinky risk everything, control nothing Masks are ill-advised in the chat box Undetectable exposure is all...

From the Neighborhood

The next-door dog is barking in early evening. What is this gesture? I hide behind the bins I’m putting out. I wish to stay in it. Not wanting to leave this floating scene, the day is young, airy, light, the moon has mounted for hours. And you, you have been sick a while. The ceiling...

Something I Heard

Today I’m not going to get dressed— not even a bathrobe or a towel. Put it out of your mind and let’s continue. There’s no difference between a vegetative state and a state of unrealized content. Between you and me I’m radically happy. I haven’t suffered as much as others and I’m relatively well read—...

Only Daughter

Mother, I woke with two arils ———in my palm and when I swallowed, I thought this time I would be ready ———to unlearn hunger, to spit sweetness into your gaping mouth. I’m tired ———of being the animal of your flesh, the only doorway ———you’ll ever walk through—on one side, you dreamt of having a boy,...

Aleph with All, All with Aleph

December 3, 2020

And when the storm subsides, the catchbasin coos; the sky exhales; the dead rosebush withers; the bright kingfisher paces in the sand. And all night, the lemon tree remembers sun. And the bathhouse cradles the salt spring, casts its bodies in white steam. And the earth opens for the spade. And the moon jar sings...

Dear O—

December 3, 2020

Maybe it began before the oracles even opened their mouths. Before I stank of sea and the past. Before the bees woke and considered swarming. When the oracles asked me to picture a man, you appeared, dragging that boat through my dreams. After, I measured every hour by nautical miles, faulty math. I was the...

Ligature

December 3, 2020

The surgery was open heart. I was cut this way. Whipsawed. Continent divided. From this, a spectacular wound. Sealed shut, but for my awe-filled mouth, monitored, machined, dabbed with Vaseline. I wasn’t there. I was on the moon floating in a chemical pool of fentanyl— heavy cloud of black oil rimmed in gold. Awake, and...

Dream of the Bird Tattoo

December 3, 2020

After the medium told me a strange bird would visit me, I obsessed over every sparrow and finch in our yard, including one that would sit outside the kitchen window, head tilted in curiosity. The yellow prairie warbler chased moths around the neighbor’s red maple. I counted Mississippi kites whistling and circling high above, green...

Summer Prayer Over Fresh Graves

December 3, 2020

At some point each day, somewhere, the sky drenches what lives. When it happens here, deep south sun swaggers out, shrugs like it never happened. Cracked, dark pavement lightens, mud quick-dries back into dust & the leaves’ lustre makes them look brand new. Science or magic trick, Sun, please teach us not to drown.