i wanted to write a poem
about the moon
before it got too fat
and fell all silvery from the sky
but i am god
and being
god is hard work
i left the words
in favor of grace
and hope and other (even sillier) things
(like love)
the moon, she falls
again tonight
like a crust of bread
or an angel
i ask creation for a moment
— it is so difficult
to be responsible
for everything right
(and wrong)
an empty book
remembers what I’d have written
and leaves me
holier than though
(laughing at myself — and of course
my own benediction)
Monthly Archives: December 2019
i can’t right now
i was minding my thoughts
there about the melting snow
in close proximity to christmas
a not-quite-star pushing bright
through the not-quite cloud
— this is love
i wanted to think
but there’s no thinking
when the night hasn’t started
i reached for my camera
but remembered i can’t take a picture
of anything that’s not quite anything
the real clouds came in
before the real stars
and the darkness decided it was time
to let me think
all the things I shouldn’t think
— but it’s night, and everyonw knows
i will
When they asked me about art
She asked how old I was
When I started to write,
So I told her
It was seventh grade
when I discovered
Girls
Love poetry.
but art is art
it all changed after that.
The color, the texture,
The line, the taste, the weight,
The movement, the scent —
It was everything after that
Changing me
From tyrant to pig
The first poem became me,
And now, I tell her,
Now you are part of me too.