Poetry
Seven
It’s All You
All the geraniums
All the paintings of geraniums
All the photographs of geraniums
The word geranium
In all the languages
That have a word for geraniums
Lucky you & your constant removal
My daughter who doesn't know
Why she’s crying tells me
I feel like there are
Tornadoes in my head
She’s four and her drawings
Of flowers look like the sun
Imagined Community
Her parachute is cumbersome
And difficult to return to its pack
She points from her yard
And you follow her finger
Clouds hang like deflated ghosts
Daily you both consume protocol
The steps so familiar
The grass grows remote
The sky doesn’t matter
My daughter says
A ghost is just a lump
And some lines
All this talk of airplanes
All this fear of heights
A poem written on the back of a tiny portrait of Fidel Castro
There is in heaven
An equal number
Of seatbelts
And podiums
Conundrum
The day’s begun to resemble
An undeniably average day
And in order to harness the luxury
Required to make such a report
I’ve dropped off at daycare my daughter
Who perhaps even now
Is making some cognitive association
That without my help will alight
Anew a question darting
In the half-formed darkness
Of her brain like a few drunken bats
Moving with alien deliberateness
If you could figure out the pattern
You’d be able to pluck them
Easily from the air
But human intelligence
Resists successfully such a
Conundrum and so we go on
If we’re lucky enough
With our awe at the world around us
It’s necessary work
Sometimes a morning’s worth
Sometimes a week
Picasso said it took him a lifetime
To learn how to draw with the eye
Of a child
I’ve got an hour before
I have to pick mine up
I Like the Quotable Parts
Forget exposition
Forget description
Who cares who the you is
I like the quotable parts
They’re like seeds that live forever
You don’t even need
To put them in the dirt
Gordian Knot
I want you
To go away
So I have time
To write
Something
Telling you
Not to
Online Education
There’s no one
There’s no one in
There’s no one in the dark
There’s no one
In the darkened
Frozen food aisle
Whose lights come on
Only when you’re close enough
To actually touch
What you might buy for dessert