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Mitochondria
Whose craters are raisins
inside raisins with a few
jeans thrown into pockets
of socks and cubbyholes
where distant relatives
roam like abandoned
sheep fleeced by Joe
Schmeling and his Goslings
who teamed up at the last
minute to beat the trading
deadline which just so
happens to be your
birthday, old pal!
Bong Hits
What if there
were no such
thing as milk
or cream or
cheese--would
cows exist?
How about sheep
--what if water
buffalo could give
milk or make
fleece?
Who's to say
only goats
or sheep are
only goats
or sheep?
Wailing for Her Demon-Lover
When did the mystery
of possession first possess
us like Socrates' daemon
dancing on his crystalline
questions or the Holy
Ghost taking a coffee
break before reaching
reaching into those hearts
until now barred from It
by thoughts decaffeinated
chronically desperate
through disparate straits
not negotiable not
penetrated by captain's
hook nor recognizable
to anyone but the seediest
devotee of Isis or elegantly
frocked Mrs. Winthrop
oracle to the Red Hat
Club of Delphi, K.Y.
Women Come and Go
In the Sistine Chapel, Adam's penis
and scrotum are so tiny before Creation
that, I guess, Michelangelo must have
known Adam to be a boy in that moment
before God touched his need to create.
Then what happens? Does he remain boy
or taste the fruit of knowledge:--that creation
means bringing both Cain and Abel from one's
loins? Then his penis should probably grow
huge before the artist covers it in gold leaf.
I guess all our penises should grow huge
a few times before the Artist covers us.
Saving the Honour of My God
who would want
to be king know
ing threats stand
around the throne
queen bishop not
that one should
think one's accom
plices guilty nor
should one look in
to the next square
too deeply as all
are dark then light
at odds then even
ur clerks ur serfs
ur court ur keep
ur chapel ur Lady
is waiting
Sentiment
After a starlike bright
burst into the building's
center, neighbors bent
to pull a stretcher
from the basement.
Gathered in with ropes,
the elevator man lay
as though asleep
in blankets. He had gone
up then down for one
more before the blitz.
His cap has tilted
jauntily to one side
as if to say, "Madam,
what floor, today?"
After the Press Conference
The way it appears to us, the skyscraper has sick sinus syndrome what with its long drippy pipes and loose ducts and awful cough all over the sidewalks. We cannot get past the revolving doors fast enough to alert the governor whose large biceps have just now smashed one of the cornices into pigeons and guano and leftover Big Mac wrappers. Help, we shout, the sky has an apparent defect. Wait, mumbles the governor, I have a boo boo. Help, we shout, the governor is ill. I'm a doctor, says a doctor, let me through. Look, we shout, the sky has sherpas falling from it. One thing at a time, says the doctor, one thing at a time.
Something
some thing you buy when you're out on your
own maybe it's a nice raku bowl that you put
on your nightstand or a print or an etching
or a lithograph not something a college friend
gave you like a proof or a trial firing but something
you actually see that you want something you
might keep until you're 80 different from the bunny
rabbit piggybank your Opa gave you and you hate
to throw out something you really think
could be intimate for you like a collectible that you
may never find things to match but you buy
anyway so you have something of your own
that identifies you as you because you have it
not spur of the moment but a kind of intimate you
psychological upwelling of what you think taste
made tangible unabstract might be
Abbas Kiarostami
A Good, Good Citizen
Fellow Citizen
Ten First Graders
Traveller
Chorus
Deserted Station
Willow and Wind
Bread and Alley
Colours Crimson Gold
Taste of Cherry
Suit for Wedding
How to Make Use of Our Leisure Time?
White Balloon Journey
Wind Will Carry Us Through the Olive Trees
Under the Olive Trees
Where Is the Friend's Home?
So I Can Experience Dental Hygiene Regularly or Irregularly
Close Up
Toothache Tribute to the Teachers
Report First Case, Second Case Homework Key
Solution No. 1 Breaktime
Two Solutions for One Problem Life, and Nothing More
And Life Goes on
Hemlock Woolly Adelgid
in the woodland
no doubletime
or quick march
matches falling
hanging swinging
squirrels who scatter
leaves twigs
branches shaking
as they somersault
after each other
to decide who
will govern this
hemlock dying
even as they
struggle to rule it
All the News that Gives Fits
Wolves make Yellowstone better:
yellowcake makes George W. bitter.
Franklin Park Zoo Story
Globe's navel has a hernia,
and gorilla has a holiday.
All My Life for Sale (part 2)
Christian in Boston posts
everything he owns on craigslist.
It sells fast.
Sign(s)ngiS
Your snooze button deactivates
your alarm's sleep function.
Your coffee maker misses its carafe,
and your toaster burns bagels.
Your motorcar's check engine light
means bad gas or bad computer.
Your office park has no spaces,
and your cube has no depth.
Your brown bag holds a Lean
Pocket and a smoothie.
Your boss wants you to give her
a hand so you can get a leg up.
Your television screens electrons
while your radio beams neocons.
Your Sox can be Red or White,
but your Cubs can't be Bears.
Your Italian bread's made in California,
and your Camembert, in Wisconsin.
Your beer bottle isn't recognized
by the redemption machine.
Your soap on a rope disintegrates
beneath your shower massage.
Your plans are put to bed
at the end of the day.
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