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...



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?