snow dogs
when I draw my guitar close
to stir and ruffle the air
the exquisite impermanence of sound
draws the dogs to my feet
loses them in sleep
until it's time to go out
and bury their noses in snow banks
you were so small
​
delicate
and hung with mist
not what I dreamed:
brooking melancholy
together in a tall house we bathed in light
moving through rooms of wonder
you hungered for solace,
surrendering to shadows, you were
hiding in the crannies of night.
searching, I find a beach of cloudy sand with woolen waves
pink tongue shadow
​
a black bullet
lighter
than
music
she
is
my shadow
rolling in the snow
twisting ‘round my legs
disappearingoverthehill
withanosefullofsquirrel
hazel-eyed
dream-creature:
​
s p r e a d o u t c o u c h l i n g
A Large Orange Moon
A large orange moon
is nestled in the clouds
over the Key Food parking lot
The mountain of snow
has been reduced to a
frisbee sized lump
surrounded by trash
Lucy
black as a moonless night
sniffs among the debris
straining at her leash
A siren splits the air
and fades into the distance
We continue walking to Ewen Park
where a few short weeks ago
a black iron lamp
cast its pale light on the snow
Walking into the park
sycamores swoop up and over us
and Lucy
remembering the snow
rolls luxuriously on the cool grass.
Take Your Sorrow to the Mountain
so now
we climb a different mountain
with feet buried in oceans
we curl gratefully around trees
wander through streams
shadow bellies clinging to us
up and up
hour upon hour
legs burning
finally emerging
past the tree line
into dazzling blue
a sunbird sits like a jewel
in a luminous king protea
we stare down a thousand feet
across vast oceans
to the far curve of the earth
v a n i s h
Birds
are breaking the pack of ice
are beaking a crack
for the first worm
the sun's warmth
loosens an icicle's grip
sends drips
to the tip
of my tongue
My Brother's Coat
my brother died
and left me this old leather jacket
it filled his life
with unfinished sentences
and long memories
I hope
during his war
it kept him above clouds
it couldn’t save him
when his motorcycle threw him
into pools of our mother's tears
where he drowned
with happiness
we talk of diamonds
we talk of snow
and watch the sky turn white
arms outstretched
your laughter swallows the night
Renovating
​
an August moon slides behind clouds
over the Narrows bridge
​
the night invites a walk by the water
and the mulling of dreams
earlier, in front of the little row house,
Mohamed mumbles something
about tandoori chicken with garlic nan.
he speaks English with a mouthful of marbles
he’s eating lunch with his fellow masons.
they’re covered in dust,
sitting in a circle on plastic buckets.
got me thinking of the Skyway restaurant
on Bay 25th Street:
a little window on Pakistan
with the scent of Old Town Mombasa
in the depths of Brooklyn
Italians have shipped out
Bathtime
ears submerged
water’s full of pops, groans, creaks;
and voices
eyes closed
floating in the womb of this motionless beast
I’m a strange foetus
with seaweed hair
I want to stay until the imminence of birth,
to keep my tail and gills.
instead, I’ll be still-born as my old self,
too stubborn for transfiguration
Bedtime
a miracle of tiny hands
has unmade the bed
casually turning back the covers
digging up the sheets,
preparing it for planting
​
I can’t resist
I seed myself
roots digging into the dark tissue of night
my eyes send out shoots
my voice: thick with dreams
I emerge to rattle my leaves at the sky
and cherish the myriad insects
quiet beneath my bark
Chick's Cha-cha
There’s a god in Mozart’s A major Piano Concerto.
He’s been romping at will through the score for years now,
utterly sure of every step.
With a plan in mind, Chick bows to him as he passes.
On the podium, Bobby cracks a smile.
The entire chamber orchestra of St. Paul senses the coming riff-shift;
Just as I’m settling down
that damn god yanks my earlobe
and punches me in the solar plexus
With absolute delight, Chick takes his cue
and throws a solo into the deep
bubbling gumbo at the base of his brain.
Chick, the god, Mozart, Bobby and
the entire St. Paul Chamber Orchestra
collapse into paroxysms of laughter
Dig a Hole in the Earth
And let water seep in
With seeds
Insects
And honey skin
​
My tidal brain
Now neap, now spring
Turns summer to fall
Then
With grace and a grin
To winter
​
No shivering
No sighs
No regrets
​
Just a brittle need to sing
​
​
Fragility
I saw a squirrel land
on a low roof this morning
in the talons of a hawk
​
​
Another American in Iraq
has lost his life
​
​
Fragility is
the thin spine
of my cat,
Charlie
​
​
Indian Moon
​
a gibbous moon
rests
on the ocean
​
I hang
my guitar
in the sky
​
the Kaskazi
spills its breath
over the strings
​
this wind
has come
from India
​
it carries
the tender drone
of sitar
​
the
rhythm
of tabla
​
our shadows fall on the sand
and sleep together all night
​
in the morning the sea wakes us
leaving salt stains on our skin