Fridays piling up
Like migrants at the border
The poet snoring
Tag Archives: reality
Notes for the photographer
Don’t push too hard for fidelity
because looking at a photograph
you really have no idea
what it felt like to be standing
just this side of that sky,
feet in the mud, those foot-sized
bricks framing your heart.
Avoid the light in polar places
and try to catch the drip, drip, drip
of reality disappearing just off-camera,
those eyes aged into history
while no one was looking.
When you dip roses, even roses
into the frail cold of liquid nitrogen,
“J’accuse!” they shout.
“M’amuse!” we shout back,
sometimes in anguish, sometimes despair,
as they lie shattered around us.
Conversation in the time of paranoia
“There’s no time,” she said,
“Any moment now will be
the too-late moment.”
“Can’t we tell
ahead of time?” I said.
“Don’t be an idiot,” she said
“Well,” I said, “that certainly
narrows down the possibilities,
with idiot ruled out.”
“Now you’re just being a jerk.”
“What, that’s not allowed either?”
Friday haiku 106
Out in the country
Even the pigeons
Know your name
Friday haiku 102
Sitting at the changing tide
Beside the ancient harbor
Waves already lapping our feet