Category: Uncategorized
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Smaller & Smaller
Abrasions across caddy-corners, across irrevocable dimensions; attention levied to strips cut thinner & thinner in the repetitive opening wide of piqued interest, its tendencies dulynoted, welcoming reception instead of gorge, a wider shot in pocket; no one knows what is biting; lesion making generositiesstare & stare; invasive practices still not denounced; & you less trustworthy…
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A Collective Noun
1. Unvisited, back door 2. Pocketed whale hanging from keys 3. The familiar driving range, a descend, a wrap around 4. Available parallel lines 5. Holding without question 6. A ripping up, a rug, absorption 7. Telephone with chord knocked free 8. Steel strainer, empty dog dish, etc. 9. A sliding door 10. Knowing as…
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Reservations
Like various placeswith the same song,same seat, the same following through.Contained places,judging gradually& making note whilesitting under nighttime skies. By day, one can either sit facing the window or away,sun as supplied advantage. Somewhere the lawn is still green & promising. The you in this poemis far away & knowsthat all the speakers it has…
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Pink, plastic flamingos
A bird flies overhead & it doesn’t matter that no one notices.It is October & the billboards are skimming the edges & books & arms expect refrain. Someone’s hair is lightly pulled back in fists, mediated in mouthfuls; the teeth of something much faster than escape. The ceiling is not glass. Metaphors are useful: raspberry,a…
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Beginnings
Constant limits like holes in the fence. This silver island pretending not to notice,covering angles & indispensable doubts. The desert reads pages & pages of iconography, lonely for an empty torso. Right now, an assembly of sitting & standing & walking through doors. We have learned how to wait, lending redto promised compensation, inspired filaments…
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Travel
The roadways finesse our tongues bashfully; through shagged over-growth & reasoned slopes its roping waves with white arms & awaits attention. There are markings along the way. A sense of sabotage leaks & travels from ravine to ravine, running carefully. Casualty, tree trunks & trash ironed flat by chance. It is true the day ends…
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A List Against Loss
A brace of proud objects: automatic gestures, impeding grey scales,a step in the wrong direction Now just reclining chairs & aluminum cans. Now deliberation. Without pronouns everything is the same. Readying disrepair in weighted boots,inching forward, forward.
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The Smallest Pond
The fledging land lines of uniformity strike again amongst a complex anatomy of fans & belts & restitutive awnings, whose sole purpose is borrowed & flanked so that the sky can pitch rain like falling nickels, all the while disregarding forewarned expectation & meeting in this circular place where what is forced is either straightened…
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In hearing motors
turning: the break resisted small light in the shadow, duplication what conversation mouths having made similar shapes before knowingly placed lamps arms reach adjacent to pilgrimage, the bigger implication lost the window open the feet of people I will never know in practice the turning eats it grows, it doesn’t know how to stop
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At the toes of giants
long round faces the day large& accepting below stairsbehind doorsbrushed hair —moving away the settling foundationbeneath the frame doors open & close& never onceis anyone suspicious
No Help for That | Jackie Clark 