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...



PERSONAL APPEARANCE BY THE AUTHOR


I didn't shave or comb my hair this morning.  The long coat
I wear is very handsome, but all the buttons are missing, and
the lining is torn.  I go into a diner where I'm not known
and sit at the counter.  The waitress has clearly given a lot
of attention to her make-up, but the end result is similar to
embalming fluid.  I look down the counter and I see a guy who
reminds me vaguely of Bukowski sitting three stools away,
hunched over a cup of coffee.  He looks ill.  I pick up a dis-
tant aroma and wonder if it is him. "Fuckwad pansy," he says,
"how can you sit there and not shoot yourself?" I am terribly
terribly torn--on the one hand, I want to show that I instantly
understood his presence there, and his commentary on mine; on
the other, anything but rank flattery is likely to piss him off.
I sign to the waitress, who I now see looks like Marianne Moore.
Gesturing, I say quietly, "Give him a piece of pie.  On me."
She smiles, shaking her head, but goes off to get the pie any-
way.  I stare at my water glass.  What have I written that has
any worth?  Is there any way to persuade my public that I'm
for real?