Two Poems
I Found This Title In A Book
there are times
I caul to him
and then to him
I towards goat day is done
the stunned old chamber
which pill or planet
has made me do thistime’s in chastity
old forgotten
writ large in his
legion bookat end of day
responsible blue
would trickle down to
gear his facewith tic-tocs of
a crumpled ocean
to the hour of
cat paradeand there we be
Grong Grong
full-on bereft in
this Madrid inside
a coaster
The chip in my digital camera leaks,
now look at this mess all over the table.Birthday parties, fleeing ibis,
thumbs over faces breaking obscured noses,whole towns (caught on a dry dandelion)
that cried to the camera “we are here”.Today I meant to do some dusting
but with memory everywherewho’s to say which are dust,
which are pixelated vision,which are flakes of sloughed-off skin
to patch back on and make me whole?Don’t answer that; they are listening.
I am listening.