Wednesday, June 26, 2019

poem for Kyoung Ae and Anne

Perilla (깻잎)
in the garden
knows
greater celandine,
goat's foot,
plantain.

These -
wind-blown,
self-sown,
uninterrupted by
pain,
doubt,
an empty pause -
can teach us
to lean
against fear,
go
forward.


Saturday, June 22, 2019

end of

it's "hunch weather"
which, in a "beard second" will change

an unpredictable loose wind
like lips
sinks ships

a certain shivviness remains

a cultural agerasia
creates
jingle boys
flash pans
lurch of us lost
produces
more, more, more

proditomania

less, less, less

of a nyctograph and more of a

mamouchi

a schapsiddee

oh my ambilaevous
dear handedness hardened off

leave the hectoring behind you

get lost





afterward

parch marks



live
die


know
here


we're not
much longer

within
flow


but
cut


young stump
seeps water -




weeping?

Friday, June 21, 2019

elm stressed
seeds everywhere

roots
augured
foretold
old
tree
new
you'll
both
die
sooner or later


Monday, June 3, 2019

complete when making

the practice of

the presence here

cold summer
tall dandelions

the sewer augur
free of roots
foretells
the wells
I saw them today
saw the wells
new universes
deep
colorful
small


Saturday, June 1, 2019

a dream



In this dream,
I am on the St. Joseph
as it leads me
to the watershed
Maumee
which feeds five percent
of Erie.

Nearly home now.

It's unclear whether this journey
is meant
to be a beginning or an end.

Wake me up.
Tell me the truth.
The sun is rising.