Poetry
from Mostly Clearing
5 I JUST PLAIN LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK!
what is a business day
anyway
at one in the morning
in the back of a cab
on the way
to an unfamiliar address
near Herald Square
we told ourselves
no interest
no conflict
that was a joke
at first
a thinly settled truth
to slip and fall in love
through the mountains
this beckoning passage
this gleaming lowland
we hoped to espy
it itself
we fancied
somehow fashioned
from the half light
a regnant reality
a go/no-go
a pursuit plane
as if
sending up a flare
hand to hand
in the canteen
for our part
climbing that cloud staircase
not too summery
not too much lift
not too much glare
not all that much to bear
not too easeful
not too matchy
none too soon
on the back foot no longer
even according to this
fallen world view
signing at all the
indicated places
resolutely resolving
to remain
faithful to the archive
the range officers
beckoning to us
I was
more than enough
of a trial
for the two of us
lucky for me
you were both
judge and jury
this coastal route
this embowered byway
altogether untrodden
on my way
to find you
31
JMW Turner
wert that thou
were breathing today
to see this morn’s dawn
over the closed up K Mart
37
of a morning
now that you mention it
what possibly
could fall
out of this
clear blue sky
a dagwood sandwich
a not unwelcome anvil
a bank error in your favor
a burnished apple
a long-lost friend
– almost anything!
40 THE VENERABLE ALFRED E NEUMAN’S BEATIFIC RICTUS
all it should take
to die
a happy man!
there’s so much
to like
about this
where do I start
this sad sack simulacrum of a sorting regime
this is what used to be buried in the basement
this child’s portion
this sales motion
this unreserved gauge
this artful display of precedence
as if there was
all the time in the world
this rumble
of armored vehicles
maneuvering on the approaches
gathered at the waist
of the conversation
that is not to say
that we do not all
crave what we construe
our due
for our upright ambitions
a kind of starry flyway
cause enough
what we long pretended
wishfulness could win us
what we all
never quite lost
that hankering for
this fresh starter’s gun
this land of second-chances
this great room
this self guided tour
this attempt at tempering
this uncanny likeness
this declined vial
all the swooning certainty of youth
where we knew
we were always
meant to end up
where once it sprouted in all directions
as if we really
ever knew what we were about
as if you could pretend
you didn’t notice
as if being mistaken
for another poet
was so terrible
as if this
was really your fate
as if you really thought
you didn’t make a difference
don’t be afraid
to ask
for what
you’re sure
you don’t deserve