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...

HIS EYES

Grant shades his eyes. He can see what could happen. He knows
that others can't see what he does. He looks into the future--
not the distant future, years which contain things which would
astound or mortify him; the future he sees is only a few hours
away, and isn't even a future but merely a possibility. What
the men could do, what would happen to them. At any rate, he
knows he cannot describe the exact vision to his subordinates--
it would confound them, and take too long to explain. Grant
shades his eyes and looks for a few simple things that can be
described in plain language. The others look to him for their
orders. He is looking out over the landscape to see the words
he will write down a few minutes from now.