Posts tagged ‘International’

October 21, 2017

52 south in minnesota and some thoughts that i can’t escape like the blood on the highway and the lights up ahead

the dead deer leave their stains on 52 south
longer than the sun hangs in Oktober skies wide pale,
i hope to not create that sort of artwork tonight.
probably someone died in the accident at Coates.
glass, lights, backed up traffic and silence at the crossing.
entrails and scattered viscera, nature and force.
later, i hope this poem doesn’t take a dive on me.
matter and brain matter and matter matted.
where softly playing wind chimes alight and inflatable
Halloween decorations on the lawn greet us, hum.
barefoot in the street talking visas and books and
cars and presents, my mom’s birthday is this weekend.
above some star dies and the cemetery up the hill knows.
at least two beers on the couch, check in at motel home,
at least some pictures. my little man is awake past his bedtime.
teaching language in the morning, then they talk like me.
these strangers aren’t strange, they are nice.
wake in the morning. talk talk talk talk talk talk
talk talk talk talk talk talk. what’s the problem?
i know how she is when she is the way she is, love.
same costume as the last 5 years or so, goodwill find.
there is no surprise like there is no surprise.
an animal jumps in front of the dashboard, it’s a leaf.
there is not change there, no change there, there.
lock and dam no. 7 is an empty street where josh died.
dan will be at jules and wives will be in andere Staaten.
nextday i have coffee and talk to China and think
of the money that i don’t have and need to find somehow.
doesn’t matter, but that fucking deer is dead again now in my head again.

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July 16, 2015

An Evening in a North Forest

Loam, marrow, stone, and humus—
where open groves of pine bent in sway,
stained-wood new growth,
a green tent setup
and stretched between.

We went tearing, hard traipsing,
gutting fish at a low fire glow
near an old truck.

A sharp knife’s prick in
a valley’s deep expanse—
words far off and then gone;

neighbors chattered, birds chirped,
and the wind whistled
where we breathed in,
adjusted focus, stretched, and pulled.

It was merely coming through,
it was a mere passing chance.

It was an evening in a north forest.

March 3, 2014

Josh Hartnett at Nick and Eddie’s

Dark dingy back room parlor

Josh Hartnett served simply

My roommate sat farther

She talked- speaking briskly

 

He seldom leaned over

Pouring glasses for the tipsy

She became lucid sober

‘Twas her eyes made her frisky

 

She couldn’t believe I ordered

Stepped up to get closer

He splashed me some whiskey

I lean on the bar, and into my shoulder

 

I thought as I watched

Amber drops hit the glass

He looked at me

This was just a passing chance

 

On those about town

On those we see around.