Skip to main content

No place to be

I’ve made sense for a while now. May I stop?
Dancing alone is like being
Marie between poems I called myself
Got a different name every day
When there is no place to be
In through the windows
The morning is hungry
The music comes from everywhere

Here it is always morning where the light stops
There are no clothes to wear
No words to chop fine
I break what I break
I breathe what I breathe
These are the fingers of tomorrow

I’ve stopped making sense for a while now.
Breathing alone is like being
Marie climbing days I called myself
The hours run different every day
Up one minute and down the other
The rope is tangled
The clock is tired
The pillows stacked in a giant pile

Now it is always only now
This foot, that foot, me watching
Myself. Your calendar my holiday
No sense to make, no reason
But the music from everywhere
No place to be

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the next time

the next time we all stay inside it will be for love of our cooking pots pencil sharpeners Buddhist gongs ripped-up couches rooster cloths the magnolias will explode hard, pinker than ever but the windows will grow dirty the front doors cobweb over the hinges will rust while we burrow lost in our old old things *** the next time we all walk down the middle of the street we will be moving refrigerators, lifeboats, houses all of the engines gone kaboom and we the elderwives power your world onewoman, onewoman, onewoman at a time on feet, toes, blisters onewoman, onewoman, onewoman at a time with the hum of our babies driving our bellies forward forward *** the next time the airplanes are pulled from the sky watch us pile them into mindbombs telling our unborn selves the story long-ago stewardess pin collections, coloring books little feet kicking the air while we worldsailed high *** the next time quiet wo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Alakazam

All of a sudden the bakery All of a mouth the creature All over hot the driveway All out of pocket the pickers All over town the regret All of a piece the rumble Alakazam, the belly All over now, the shouting All of us masked, this peacetime All over shy, this spring All of the worst, over now? Always already the bakery
Post a Comment
Read more

One Year In (Anniversary Landays)

I cannot make the way smooth for you Young lovers chiseling out your own path on this earth I’ve been squinting through this old keyhole With my blindest eye, been singing my wobbliest notes I feel windows open for dancing I smell the fresh bread of tomorrow punching higher All across the land toes are digging Into dirt, pebbles, grass, wood - every foot a new shape First son, new daughter, you make me glad There will be breath, there will be food, there will be cartwheels
Post a Comment
Read more