Monday, August 31, 2020


Odysseus and the Magi
(Caspar, Balthazar and Melchior)
hold a conversation

In Galilee
she measures a face
at 33, 
it
could have been
the sun-roughened one
of the man walking towards you
on this street
someone you'd also meet
in Gaza or Jerusalem

a field is
a museum of thoughts



w i d e  a t t e n t i o n




Saturday, August 29, 2020

Seventy one degrees today -
that would have been your age next March.
In Celsius, that's twenty two -
the year you
first read
Dostoyevsky.
kodokushi
a pandemic

Thursday, August 27, 2020

too much of everything

storms
fires
lies
spies
poisons
palliatives


Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Monday, August 24, 2020



no anomaly
that 12,00 lightning strikes
caused loss, fires raging
as we are, after watching
Jacob Blake shot in the back




Last night
thunder
came,
and
a little
rain.


This morning
cicadas,
as
tansy,
costmary bloom,
make room
in the garden 
for asters,
crysthanthemums.




Sunday, August 23, 2020


The cool night
howls.

An owl
shadows
the street lamp.

A
young woman
carried home
by friends
drunkenly shouts
"Guys, you don't know
 my people,
where we came from,
what we've endured -
it's so fucked up".

Silence,
for minutes or hours.

Phone keys punched,
a ring,

unanswered.






Clearances -
the cupboards first
or the cellar?

garden

daylilies spent
dirt dent
sleeping space
a cicada's
hole,
sweat bee's
towered furrow
burrowed
into the
ground


this
liriope
understory
unearthed.

Saturday, August 22, 2020

waka

Waka -
make this word
a Maori canoe.

Said twice
in Cameroon,
watch it dance.

In Japan
write a
a tanka
ku,
you
5
7
5
7
7.

Go to
heaven
in Hawaii,
where Waka's
a lizard goddess.

Nigerians will
walk there, waka,
while spinning
a yarn, a fabu.


Such storytellers, perhaps,
walk high
in the Andes,
passing
sacred Quechuan objects -
waka.
I am looking.
I sit in a chair
where above the garden
I watch
a young cardinal flex and preen.
Seen from this window
he is so small
but not at all
insignificant.

Monday, August 17, 2020

color, august 16th

yellow
is the
late afternoon
sunflower
coneflower
coreopsis.
It's the
compass plant
complaint
to an ox-eye
or black-eyed Susan
as they wither
in the heat,
high
above
verbena,
hover over
wild onions.

Yellow is a
dusk goldfinch,
thistle fed,
flying
wind-combed
over rattlesnake master,
to perch upon
tall teasle
and praise the dying day.

Yellow
is the
last light
upon an
evening
river,
rising,
as fiery starred hearts of milkweed
lift up from the
green again grass,
so full of shadows,
that will
soon swallow everything.







readjustment

Clearing away,
pulling up roots,
dry leaves,
I pile
place
them
here,
below
the plum tree.

Thursday, August 13, 2020

goldfinch and swallowtail, August

commoners -

thistled

grey
green
led to
reddish
violet
under
black
and
yellow


spinus tristus

in summer

and

Papilio glaucus

also in summer

her wings
abalone
iridescent
blue
as she flew

Monday, August 10, 2020

sleep
less
ness

v i n e


Bon

winged

thing

salt
perimeter



Para hacer el retrato de un pájaro



Para hacer el retrato de un pájaro

Pintar primero la jaula
con la puerta abierta
pintar después
algo gracioso
algo simple
algo hermoso
algo útil
para el pájaro
apoyar después la tela contra un árbol
en un jardín
en un montecillo
o en un bosque
esconderse tras el árbol
sin decir palabra
sin moverse…
A veces el pájaro aparece al instante
pero a veces puede tardar años
antes de decidirse
No desalentarse
esperar
esperar si es necesario durante años
la prontitud o la demora en la llegada del pájaro
no guarda relación
con la calidad del cuadro
Cuando el pájaro aparece
si aparece
observar el más profundo silencio
aguardar a que el pájaro entre en la jaula
y una vez que haya entrado
cerrar suavemente la puerta con el pincel
después
borrar de uno en uno todos los barrotes
con cuidado de no rozar siquiera las plumas del pájaro
Reproducir después el árbol
cuya más bella rama se reservará
para el pájaro
pintar también el verde follaje y la frescura del viento
el polvillo del sol
y el zumbido de los bichos de la hierbas en el calor
del verano
y después esperar que el pájaro se decida a cantar
Si el pájaro no canta
mala señal
señal de que el cuadro es malo
pero si canta es buena señal
señal de que podéis firmar
Entonces arrancadle suavemente
una pluma al pájaro
y poned vuestro nombre en un ángulo del cuadro.

To Paint the Portrait of a Bird

To Paint the Portrait of a Bird


a poem by Jacques Prevert
 (translated by Lawrence Ferlinghetti)

First, paint a cage
with an open door
then paint
something pretty
something simple
something beautiful
something useful
for the bird
then place the canvas
against a tree
in a garden
in a wood
or in a forest
hide behind the tree
without speaking
without moving...
Sometimes the bird comes quickly
but he can just as well spend long years
before deciding
Don't get discouraged
wait
wait years if necessary
the swiftness
or slowness of the coming
of the bird having no rapport
with the success of the picture
When the bird comes
if he comes
observe the most profound silence
wait till the bird enters the cage
and when he has entered
gently close the door with a brush
then
paint out all the bars one by one
taking care not to touch
any of the feathers of the bird
Then paint the portrait of the tree
choosing the most beautiful of its branches
for the bird
paint also the green foliage
and the wind's freshness
the dust of the sun
and the noise of insects in the summer heat
and then wait for the bird to decide to sing
If the bird doesn't sing
it's a bad sign
a sign that the painting is bad
but if he sings it's a good sign
a sign that you can sign
so then so gently you pull out
one of the feathers of the bird
and you write your name
in a corner of the picture

Sunday, August 9, 2020

Pour faire le portrait d'un oiseau - To paint the portrait of a bird



Pour faire le portrait d’un oiseau

Peindre d’abord une cage
Avec une porte ouverte
Peindre ensuite
Quelque chose de joli
Quelque chose de simple
Quelque chose de beau
Quelque chose d’utile
Pour l’oiseau
Placer ensuite  la toile contre un arbre
Dans un jardin
Dans un bois
Ou dans une forêt
Se cacher derrière l’arbre
Sans rien dire
Sans bouger…
Parfois l’oiseau arrive vite
Mais il peut aussi bien mettre de longues années
Avant de se décider
Ne pas se décourager
Attendre
Attendre s’il le faut pendant des années
La vitesse ou la lenteur de l’arrivée de l’oiseau
N’ayant aucun rapport
Avec la réussite du tableau
Quand l’oiseau arrive
S’il arrive
Observer le plus profond silence
Attendre que l’oiseau entre dans la cage
Et quand il est entré
Fermer doucement la porte avec le pinceau
Puis
Effacer un à un tous les barreaux
En ayant soin de ne toucher aucune des plumes de l’oiseau
Faire ensuite le portrait de l’arbre
En choisissant la plus belle de ses branches
Pour l’oiseau
Peindre aussi le vert feuillage et la fraîcheur du vent
La poussière du soleil
Et le bruit des bêtes de l’herbe dans la chaleur de l’été
Et puis attendre que l’oiseau se décide à chanter
Si l’oiseau ne chante pas
C’est mauvais signe
Signe que le tableau est mauvais
Mais s’il chante c’est bon signe
Signe que vous pouvez signer
Alors vous arrachez tout doucement
Une des plumes de l’oiseau
Et vous écrivez votre nom dans un coin du tableau.













































































































































































































































Saturday, August 1, 2020

wishes



heat
memory
day
the cicadas

heat
reverie
night
the crickets

What if
this river
could hold
the sun
make it
cold
enough
for
cusped hands?


What if
this wind
though
slight
could
fill
the moon
with
autumn
light?