ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 5

untitled
some words last longer...

THEORETICAL
just read the words...

AN ACCOUNT
it wasn't as if any...

THE NIGHT OF THE BIG STORM
the neighbor boy with candles...

untitled
day that hesitates...

9/4/94
morning the flowers...

LUCK
of birds to have wings...

MEMORY
noon the infinite...

9/1/94
eulogy strains those heads...

HOW TO
ceremonies must be long...

A MAN OF WAR
rises through the air...

TALE
midnight pours out his heart...

TITLE NO TITLE
if your hand...

I'LL TRY AGAIN
it chases me...

24 HOURS
night as a cistern...

NOTICING
how to be literal as a last gasp...

LOOKOUT
looking out from a window in the treetops...

RETURN
in someone's house or in a barn...

MY WALK
being secret and smart...

ONGOING
that rush rush...

MONEY WORRIES
dreaming of an owl...

MABLE MCKIBBEN RENSBERGER
grandmother of underground places...

untitled
memory bled...

PAGE TORN FROM THE BOOK OF MEMORY
where it is flat the wind...

APOSTROHE
moon bone bright I...

untitled
for luck a fire...

EXAMPLES
slipped on the carpet at the turn of the stairs...

GIVE ME JUST A MINUTE
The room blurs. I can't think....

TELLING ABOUT
argument with my shadow...

DOCTORS MISUNDERSTAND
blue circles approaching my eyes...

HERE'S AN IDEA
what about...

COLDER WIND
everything is...

BEING TOLD GOODBYE
I am in the limited area...

MY LETTERS
continuator of hieroglyphs...

HELP ME
this poetry has grown too heavy...

RETURN THE FAVOR
doc buzzard in your cart...

SURVEYOR'S DREAM
to keep all the directions...

SEEN FROM A DISTANCE
the poems he has forgotten...

TRAVEL
atlas of devastation...

WE SING
day...

AS I SLEEP
I am blind stumbling...

PRACTICE WITH MY EYES
a hero of waiting...

WORDS I CANNOT UNDERSTAND
bad traffic on the way to...

CHANGE IN THE WEATHER
the wailing stops...

WHAT WILL I WRITE ON THE LAST PAGE
blank paper stares at me...

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