ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 18

SURVIVAL
Survive the summer, crumbs of dead leaves dropped by the...


THE DREAM OF LAST NIGHT
dreamt of rain...


INHERITANCE
you are heir to a hidden philosophy...


LAST DAYS OF SUMMER
the long dry spell weakens everything...


THE HARVEST
late afternoon...


A MAN
as I left there stood a man...


TIMES/STEPS/FUTURE/TRADE
the times I saw...


untitled
blank page: no wreck yet...


OUR NEIGHBORHOOD THE UNIVERSE
a black hole is empty...


A SQUIRREL MAKES A MEAL OF ACORNS
it looks up and sees...


THE DIVER
the tomb lid sketch a naked man his body arched...


MY FIT
my old clothes carry my old shape...


12/31/10
will I be silenced? yes...


DRIVING BY
a field of crows in winter...


LOSS AND GAIN
the wind that took...


MY INQUIRY
do you piss first thing when you get up...


THREE QUESTIONS
the last cold night passed...


HEMLOCK BLUFFS ONCE AGAIN
along the ridge...


NEWS
somewhere peace has begun...


untitled
we are always...


MY ENVIRONMENT MINUS ME
looks around...


THE WORLD WE ARE NOT IN
the known world...


WORLD NEWS
everything is a containment vessel...


BORROWED THEME
leaf lying there...


3/18/11
moon up...


IN THE HIERARCHY OF POETS
I attempt to find my place...


BEGIN HERE
the light inches forward...


MORE
the old: as they shrink...


WHAT IT IS
something has chosen me for its disguise...


FOLLOW
the one who disguised himself as rain--...


MORNINGS LIKE THIS
inside me...


NIGHT
the spatter on the boards...


TO REASON
I love you because I am not like you...


TO THOSE OF A DISTANT PLANET
there as here...


ERIC RENSBERGER
The date and cause of his death are unknown to the present...


BETWEEN STORMS
the sparrow's hop...


REPORTING ON MYSELF
who tried hardest with me?...


HERE
Here where the alleys cross all the ground has been asphalted...


MY DISASTER PLAN
I will write about it...


WHAT WE HAVE
one sky becomes another...


I RECALL A JUNE DAY IN THE FIFTIES
brief as any...


5/30/11
the wind-felled trees piled in the open...


AFTER EASILY
I take with me ...


EARLY HEAT WAVE
the new moon takes its pincers...


I DON'T LOOK AT PHOTOGRAPHS
so there's no way I'll be inspired...


OF STONE, STONE
to speak of stone...


PURSUIT
the zodiacal beasts bounding...


WE HAVE TO PROCEED CAUTIOUSLY
no one else must ever know what...


INSTANT
lightning that touches earth...


untitled
one stone with one name...


A UNIVERSE
upward is more or less forever...


YELLOW CREEK
each spring the plowing...


LEAVES AND RAIN
the leaves in the wind make a sound like rain...


LISTENING TO A TRAVELER
there you go in the dark...


THE LOSERS
when the bud can no longer strain against...


MY FATHER'S GRADUATION PORTRAIT
your youth faded far more swiftly...


POEM NOT DONE
two thirds...


THE PRESENT MOMENT
overall I'd have to say...


ORCHESTRAL ACCOMPANIMENT
the cicadas' strict song...


HOPE
Never easy in his mind, that man still keeps hoping. It's true:...


AT THE WINDOW LOOKING OUT
a narrow street comes to mind...

WILDNESS COMES BACK


The wild in America is contained, pushed back, owned by the people
as a public treasure for all time. Thus it is separated from us
and our settlements so that America can possess its wildness and be
free from it, well-ordered. But the wildness comes back. In the
abandoned pastures and on the rock ledges made by highway cuts,
cedar saplings appear and then come up in crowds. Along the old
fencerows and in carelessly-tended alleys trash trees--sumac, tree
of heaven--spring out. Scavenger animals multiply, certain birds
find the suburbs and cities to their liking, cracks in the asphalt
or cement breed greenery suppressed elsewhere, the dumps draw
colorful vermin to their feast. And the wildness takes over new
types of habitat, as when the vines cover abandoned shacks and
trailers, and the rodents shelter there. It takes on new forms
that we don't at first recognize as the wild asserting itself:
toxins and meth labs, birth anomalies and addictions, unchecked
wealth confronted by ever-larger desires--these are wild, these
are crawling over and under our safe buildings. We are crazy for
guns, we have an insatiable desire for power, control, security.
The law devours wildly, contempt for losers is a wild passion,
money is the wildest thing of all. We make the largest explosions
the world has ever known because the wildness is in us. We vote
for it, we consume it, it eats away at us, it is the terror our
eyes see everywhere, and we can't stop our hearts beating too fast,
our breath coming out in shouts. We have a wild, violent desire
to get a peace so endless it seems natural to do anything we can
think of to obtain it.