All time I a quicker quick
no trip only run
can’t afford any tangled–
morning walk with roosters and
whatever else– feeling the hangover
running away like parking ticket gifters
and their receives …
the AM and the mosquitos disrupting
any calm, and any chance of finishing
this note, not so much a poem not at all
I’m in one of those moods where I don’t
want the day to open,
I just want the woodpecker to talk to
me or keep with that beat as I try to write.
Imagine an hour of quiet here on this
vineyard, and a full
unfettered hour, but it won’t, the day
don’t have that written for this journalhugger–
Bees, the chirps, the destiny of a March
Morning.. And what what domino lab
Am I in? Oh and another
Days off, I get one, right?
Another buzz in ear I
get up from chair porch
to parking lot and vineyard past, talking to myself like
And death, death won’t
Bother me like these goddamnd
Mosquitos — notifikeepwriting–
Water, pond brook or
new song and morning of
And that’s it.
No wore wine.
Or IPA– just a scuttle to
another word set and don’t edit–
The water doesn’t take back the
last ten seconds of stream– the buzzes
don’t rewind or redo– and so me2.
Stare at my parked car and hope a bird shows me what to write next
And I do
Deny death its manuscript, refuse
to publish it.
No. And on the grass shadows pitch an idea–
Time to work.
But no a
coworker coming in on
Day off to buy some wine.
Good for him I think
but when quiet comes back I have
To listen to the morning’s tempo and
Song new and study–
And wait I don’t
Want the poem to
End I sing the rest back at the
wings, that one with the red suggestion
In the left wing– I mean right
Right I’m not right I left my
sensibility at home I left
in a rush
No rush this morning–
And the mallets and trumpets, sax
Brushes and hats, I tap but slow down–
I just stop stop with anything that could slow m–
Back of neck, left, to match the one
on the inside of my wrist, right.
The obvious thoughts just become like
added sugar in coffee, not needed.
Just keep as is,
As I is and will be. Wings left, I don’t look just listen.
That’s better, study, student, outside,
no box no jail no room. This is a room,
My room for now in this now
moment molding needling music in everything.. I don’t need to
Write and charm the scenes additives to
continue their hospitality and
Think that’s a robin..
Think that’s a .. What…..
Delay.. Think.. No test remember, it’s not
that form of classroom.
Wings again.. Crow… New songs competing.
Set pen down.
Just invite the whats and notes.. All
assimilated for instruction,
or maybe it’s just life.