Posts tagged ‘MN’

August 15, 2016

Hope.

i woke up
learned,
tired of some sleep,
ready for fall,
August flowers
hanging off
a 1920’s
wooden mantel,
waiting for
new weather,
tasting fresh
coffee,
hoping for
brilliance
in commutes,
friendships,
ideals,
and openness
in modern
minds where
they won’t
find it.
i beg of travel
and good health,
the way
family used to
years before
all the funerals
started
to happen.
i need
better ghosts
to let me know
they exist,
and i need
better
doctors to
tell me
i’m sick.
something,
something
about hope.

July 16, 2016

turn at whole foods muse

a saturday morning commute,
when i see high performance
dick measurements
dancing across deep potholes
in our weekend downtown,
i realize that maybe my feet
say more on a quick walk
in broken-open slip-ons
than my hands do on virgin leather,
and that’s was my judgement,
and at a cracked bus stop
some authentic wait lonesome
for jesus christ and good luck
surrounded by windows mirrored,
exhaustion and new day;
who wears the pants and such anyway?
i think all this betwixt coffee sips
driving along the way,
i take it in over “ordinary world”
and think of Scorsese death
while our wet ball spins
(do i need a car wash to appeal?)
and his Porsche turns before me;
the shine blinds, maybe size small.

July 11, 2016

lastly we think

mostly driving home
from a reprieve between
standing pole pine–green!
and exalted glamping situation,

below old Duluth
past something Hinckley,
and their road mess,
and slow aggressive lot,

listening to No Agenda,
we realize that we have
realized nothing
for what we are told
by the local/national pundits
and stirring media,
the melting pot hot.

and we riot
and we protest
and we kill
and we oppose

and lastly we think… i am guilty too,

beyond what
we are told by something
being paid to have
us closely listen, sure.

know.

water cooler blues and divisive proclamations…

bad news multiplies
like rabbits and gets
spoke more gossip
than adultery, stay woke.

and lastly we think.
and lastly we think.
and lastly we think.

July 7, 2016

a traffic stop in St. Anthony

humans in their ways find shelter,
to hide from that such news
which they do not understand, in ways
to keep to keeping, to keep on
and go, and most–and i, will never “get it”
the agency of those in such high towers aloft
and their fears they decide on,
to encase and to deal fateful cards
to those so swiftly and so finally so nearly
in such a manner, so wrongly,
in circumstances we could all now weep,
for the images we see we are all now there.

June 18, 2016

no. 7 at 14/61 and the future

Between violet sepia bluffs
Cars played lines
A haze grew thick—hot
Orange cones dictated
The fast up and down
Of empty traffic

Cemeteries waved at Dresbach
Sandy islands slipped away
A great dam held its ground
Where days felt longer
And time gave MN goodbyes

Polaris and the waxen moon
Lush grass and free truth
Spread out Abnet field
Voided streets, no yield
Completely consumed

Cigarette smoke rolled
In icy air conditioning
Talks, barstools pushed away
Rum doubles and a door
Familiar face accord

Hands gripped the wheel
Assail easy premonition
A new floor coming in
And I am sure there was
god and love and open skies

All around me the speed limit
All around me cut out hills old

June 5, 2016

the paper boy is dead

On a hunch I sauntered slowly
into fresh borne south of
this driftless region driveway
thinking of a town so small
and so brilliant with newness
that dove’s coos came warmer,
more complex and calming
in cascaded light,
sparrows tangoed along eaves,
nests bulged with twigs above a door—
turning back, I’d see every bump
on simple alien surface streets,
no moving cars, no people, just…
the newspaper there, on time.
7 years as never seen before,
mixed emotions at the thought:
could the paper boy have forgot,
to the end of the cement I went,
where straight lines and nature’s debris,
where I saluted hand over
brow to shield from a blindingness,
so practiced and so readied
the veteran orb could retire happy,
here street signs and crab trees sighed,
and we’d all freeze to death just
below shouldered green hills advancing
with leathered leaves flapping
sans our wrapped Sunday Tribune,
or the will to go anywhere else.

May 18, 2016

the view at coffman union

i’ve seen a million steps along this walk
…and yet still my eyes do fixate for more;
there is something about each placement put
of how it takes a person further than before…

April 26, 2016

The Green Line, What a Show

I was over by Frogtown for a rental showing,
all green—a soil garden, a hill, and the smell
of rotten weeds—I wondered how they
smoked it… here, an old man & his shaggy

dog play. A few varied pedestrians followed
where I walked, and street signs shown old
with certain dull patina, the kind that screams:
forgotten. Victoria St. was vacant except

for a yellow bus near the Victorian Bar and
endless gravel alleyways and broken fences &
overgrown unkempt yards. Later, the station
was alive with families and strollers and trash

and invalid transfers hopefully left. Cozy in
our blue seats on this Green Line, big windows,
we rolled up to Snelling Avenue where a
woman with her luggage used the platform

as a toilet. She pulled at her pants—up over
her waste, grabbed her loose belongings and left.
I sat with the uttered guffawed-surprised sound
of some observant passenger directly in front

of me. He caught my wide-eyed stare, I had
to think before I went to words: what a show.

April 20, 2016

Passenger at the Bus Stop along Hennepin

Our center of life
is constant, steady movement.
Passing along I reflect.

March 14, 2016

untitled 59

Skyscrapers and spires in the cool of night,
downtown & away, in the darkened light.
And we do what it is to make such sight burn,
we open eyes on what makes the soul yearn.

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