ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 9

SPECULATION
the possession of life...


TO COUNT FOR WHAT
eyes scrape the borderland of no...


WHERE I AM/HAVE BEEN
our decisions are so small...


VIEW OF EARTH FROM MY HOUSE
stars out a light breeze...


MY FIRST LANGUAGE
alive in this time...


10/20/97
steadily consuming the purple-sweetness...


POSTCARD
I write to you from...


HERE
the beast and the waves...


LYRIC
moving through the dark...


APPLICATION
please send more poems...


IN THE DARK
friends the dark as much as you...


FOOTNOTE TO IN THE DARK
those who disappeared while still alive...


NOVEMBER
cold weather settles me...


WITHOUT CLOTHES
the right temperature for singing...


TO THE ASIAN MARKETS
we can be proud of our success...


3/1/98
the sunday walk a path...


REFUSAL TO MAKE MUSIC
I have lost my ears the silence is so large in them...


WEDNESDAY MORNING
with the sudden cold...


MY WINDOW
wonderful day...


untitled
sun flees we pursue...


MY WISHES
steady hand...


ON HIS WORK
bright from the roots...


THE LAST TIME I WAS AT YOUR HOUSE
while I snorted and rolled over...


untitled
sun's careful stroking breaks the frost...


untitled
there were some the wind dried some...


untitled
sun slant the wind dies moist...


FOLLOWING
the laws of migration over the ground...


HOW IT HAS BEEN
half dark or near dark...


THE TASK
There is a god or goddess for first ...


THINGS THAT ARE AND ARE NOT POEMS
things that kill us...


FRAGMENT
Doesn't. And complies again, removes the robe, there is the soft...


DREAMED OF MY EX-WIFE
We were selling a house back to the couple we had bought it from....


GRUMBLE
no other life has been given me...


11/1/98
the world sleeps...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM LALIC
a weight of fire brought home...


untitled
in another dream a pickled man...


AFTER HOURS
red flare west through the trees...


WHERE I STAND WITH HIM
a gift of storms bursts open...


DANCE OF LOVE
I couldn't touch the dancers' radiance...


DECEIVED MYSELF THINKING
of a poetry only...

LARRY MILLER


when you call back there to order the flowers
they know how to spell R e n s b e r g e r
but listen politely when out of habit you rattle it off
and Much Love From Your Boyhood Friend
doesn't strike them as oldfashioned sentimental
they'll check about the viewing for you
and manage everything except connecting memory
with knowledge which is left to pain the usual

here's this for Larry:  always a fat kid but not soft
deepchested broadshouldered like his fierce St. Bernard
the family business was heavy equipment
backhoes bulldozers and the work they could do
his first vehicle was a red scooter lawnmower engine
pull the cord and go admirable to me the sixth grader already
doing tractor work but allowed only a bicycle for fun he rode
barefoot and used his feet for brakes even (I saw this) on gravel

last time I saw him was at grandma's house had to be
a decade ago he stood just inside the back door wouldn't
come further because of his muddy clothes well what I do
for fun now is mulepacking I come down your way
every summer go into the Hoosier National deep as we can get
stay there a week so quiet you don't hear any traffic
camp out no work nothing to do you should come along
sometime I'll call you sure love to sounds great IN MEMORIUM