ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 1

NIGHT FEAR
you said fire...

BLUE TWEED WITH FLECKS
Help in unlikely places...

TWELVE USES OF AN ABANDONED SPIDERWEB
it can be removed with a gesture...

FOUR CHAMBERS
links the heart...

LOCUSTS, ETC.
they do eat after all, for the oak...

untitled
came to you...

BIG KILL IN THE SUBURBS
lawns smooth as mint icing...

ADOPTION
"Do you know Carlos?____ What is your relationship to him?"...

MUSING
your red sneakers get bigger...

HOW IS IT
let it be night on the Muscatatuck...

APRIL
empty play...

POLITICAL POEM
The landlord of the opposing house...

WALKING
grasshopper flight...

MEN
The sale barn: sweat, cigars,...

IMPERFECT POEM
I have nothing to say to you now...

!
You poets of the on/off guard...

OFFER
Guy in a blue shirt...

SIDE WALK
Between the streetlamps there are regions of dark. You can't...

WHY WE SAY
good...

STUDY
we took the measure...

LANDSCAPE: WEATHER BECOMING DOLPHY
evidence of high wind...

FROM THE TRAIN
Tom, when the red light blinking...

THE STRANGER
Him, the stranger walking toward you, he's the one you take...

INSTEAD OF EATING
I could take a walk I could...

THEFT OF A LINE FROM ORR
I am older...

PROPHECY
They shall be raised...

AT A FRIEND'S HOUSE
the sirens, the steps on the sidewalk,...

PORTRAIT
He comes up the street,...

MY BIRTHDAY
in the belly of night...

8/27/89
my notebook is heavy...

SHOPPING
It is important to tie your...

I HAVE NOT LOVED ENOUGH
I am so intimate...

REPLY
. . . the kind of woman who lets her ...

MY GIFT
the struggle to maintain...

HE SITS DOWN
M the cripple feels his legs unhinge,...

CLOSE CALL
Uniformed and well-armed bullies...

M THE MURDERER
That man locked in an argument with his wife, the young girl...

EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE AFRAID
The junkie looks in a window...

MY HOUSE
The bushes are growing up around my house,...

NEW TUBES
plugging in the 1955 Gibson amp...

THEFT OF A LINE FROM MONTALE
The obstinate news, the turbulence...

NAKED AGAIN
It's night and I'm naked again...

FOR SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE
I wear my pants...

IN MY ILLNESS
my thirst my fever...

BACK WAY HOME
blackness in the center of my eye...

POEM POEM
my words from black...

untitled
her head turned to one side...

THE VISITORS
they come to us mostly...

MY SON
my son never born...

EARLY WINTER
first snow fall...

SLEEPY
the fat snow...

DOWN THE HALL, TURN LEFT
my room with the standing lights...

10/5/89
Here...

WISH
my feet cold in thin shoes...

COMPARED TO WHICH
Truth is an apple...

TELEPHONE
out of the length of your hair...

REQUEST
let me borrow blindness...

SUNDAY
the big stones, the little stones...

POEM OF WATER
I want to be a different kind of water...

THE AFFLICTED
That man has ears but he does not hear...

LOOKING
between two mirrors...

HOW IS IT


let it be night on the Muscatatuck
and the escapee's houses
drilled into the cuts in the land
let it be fog
moving on the surface of water
like the last memory
before the didn't-quite-kill-it-all
blow to the head

and the orchestra and robins
go biddle-ee-dee-dum
while the struggle to remember what to forget
puts down roots like a dry tree in the desert

let it be tomorrow or the next day
the visit from the Man from the State
with all his own problems
but time to stop and enquire after yours

how is it after all
how do things that get done get done
without your knowledge
with only the mildest of intents
with bare adequacy
in the middle of nowhere


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