ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 20

untitled
you know who...


THE GREAT WORKS
Reading one of the Great Works that you find annoying, you ...


SILENCE/WORLD
the silence is never a silence...


FRIGHTENED BY MY BOOKS AGAIN
they have in them many words to read...


12/13/12
the squrrels' efforts...


THIS LIFE
less led than lost...


FIRST SNOW
one might imagine Adam...


12/26/12
the wind moves along...


NOTES TO BEGIN WITH
noon on new year's day...


AFTERTHOUGHT
silence...


UNDERSTANDING EACH OTHER
the word for food...


STILLED FOREVER
the body of a mouse...


A CYCLOPS EXPLAINS TO A STRANGER POLYPHEMUS' HOWLS
every so often one of us here goes crazy ...


CONTINUATION
even zero has a hard time with nothing...


REGISTERED
from some abandoned clock comes...


DRIVER
are you still driving...


ABOUT THE FAMOUS COUNTRY
the leaves cover it...


NOT YET
not yet ready to write you...


A THOUGHT
the alley floor is cracked...


2/23/13
last weeks of winter...


REPETITION
those who in their agony of loss...


WAYS HE TRAVELS
the hastening traveler panting along the ways...


PERHAPS POSSIBLE
watch ...


STORM FORECAST
moss light under trees...


REPITITION II
die of grief make another grief...


ONLY AT NIGHT
only at night can I really see...


I KNOW WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE
the trembling you see...


REPITITION III
make another grief...


THE READER
the pages I turn sketch...


WONDERFUL
at the doctor's office...


LANDSCAPE WITH TWO MEN
in dark clothes walking over the year's...


REPETITION IV
...


4/29/13
barely light...


EVEN SO
a picture of least importance...


SAYING MORE
cold air on my skin as it leaves me alert pleases...


NEWS
the shamed man...


5/26/13
a penny drops on the floor...


IT RIDDLES
it isn't memory...


STORY
limbs of the tree gone astray...


JUST TO BE CLEAR
nothing wants to know...


SEEING
rain-centered region...


COMPARE AND CONTRAST
there is never just one crow...


I STILL ACHE
the little things said...


THE DIFFERENCE
an off-white sky...


PLAYING AGAIN
a store of chords held in the fingers laid...


THE TOWN
the town with its mildly hilly north side...


TO YOU
if it often seems...


IN TIME
to arrive in time with some of what you've packed...


HIS INTENTION
He left, lying where I would be sure to see it, a little written...


1937
the Ohio in flood...


STONE SYMPATHY
this large rock in the abandoned field...


ANOTHER KIND OF WIND I REMEMBER
the whirlwinds that used to come...


DREAMS
That was childhood, when I believed anyone could fly if they ...


WHAT THEY BUILD AND WHERE
they build their cities on the plain...


A PARTICULAR HEAVEN
after the end...


BORDERLANDS
In some of the places where boundaries meet there can be a ...


WHAT IT KNOWS
an invisible warning...


WHAT IF YOU WERE THAT MAN IN THE MIRROR?
no thoughts or feelings within you...


IRONY WATER
the irony water I drank in youth...


MY LIFE DOES THE MATH
my life poorer by a day...

OUR COURTHOUSE IS BEAUTIFUL


from the southwest corner on a clear April day
the stone steps rising between two old redbuds
their heads bushy with flowers and behind and above them
the blocky white courthouse itself backed by blue sky
the lawn is green daffodils surge the larger trees bud out
the monument to all the soldiers and wars is solid
even if some of the lettering is dissolving and the words go

but my favorite monument is on this side screened by shrubs
a tall square pillar with dried up faucets at its base
"drink and be grateful" "thirsty and ye gave me drink"
put up by the WCTU many decades ago in pure idealism
and desire for new laws--did it have a statue on top?
I can look this up--because we are a people of ideals and laws

we will break our heads or others' on history if it won't
give way to our banging we have sought a prosperity
to end all prosperity and it never ends the empire
of winners and losers the frontier of it is moving outward
leaving us behind searching the strip malls
for a measure of our limitations

how harsh to love a place that seeks ideal laws
and is always moving away from you
I think it is in a desert now building fires
and spreading ideals our heads have forgotten so sore
from the banging but that's OK I can spin in circles
till I stumble like a drunk in front of the WCTU monument
I can watch the republic dissolve in the distance
into empire and be thankful I'm still here
and lost and ready to fall like a city of millions but really
I'm just a dizzy smalltown provincial who loves April
and stone steps and thinks our courthouse is beautiful