ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

sequence #
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11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20

  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 4

ABOUT TO SIT DOWN
Stepping out the back door...


KISS HIS EAR
Brown corn bends as...


STALLING OUT
Just by getting enough distance...


PAGE ZERO
my mind's blank wall...


PARTING
words just off...


CRICKETS HESITATE
the night...


FROM AND TO
my first eternity...


IN THIS LITTLE POEM OR WORLD
I mislaid my travel plans the map...


FIELD GUIDE
indigo bunting no words...


untitled
I knew...


I STAY UP LATE
studying to live...


POEM OF EXPOSURE
the tender outcry...


untitled
underground I'll turn to you...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM TATE
I consider it a citizen's duty...


STANDING STILL IN
november...


HOW I TRAPPED THE MURDERER
I left out the part...


PROVERB
he who sleeps a false sleep...


A SUNDAY NIGHT SERMON FOR DAVID BAKER
The first step is to listen,...


I AM PART BUZZARD
my grandmother was a buzzard...


DEAR FUCKHEADS
my head hurts...


TILL IT THAWS
1....


RESOLUTION
I am so glad...


EVENING POEM
in the cellar...


DISTURBANCE
the world is alive...


FLIGHT
the gamblers...


VISIT
Buying toys, the one remaining copy...


STORM
in trouble again...


JUST AFTER DAWN
We sat among the cattle and he asked me ...


INTERPRETATION
Hour begets hour, dream begets dream,...


THE BUZZARD SPEAKS
I am proud...


INTERRUPTION
not knowing what to say...


JOSEPH'S POEM
if you wish to own a fear...


DIS-ORDER
of course...


BLUE MILLION
in the house dark...


untitled
blank pages spit their silence...


BROKEN POEM
life goes through...


AUTOBIOGRAPHY VOL. II
the day before my birth...


MARENGO
the pressure of seasons...


TODAY
awoke in the forest...

Listen!


INSTEAD OF EATING


I could take a walk I could
study the classics or work
hard and honestly investing the money
I'd save wisely I could
give of myself to others
my left little toe for instance
I don't think I use it
hardly ever think of it
it would look good
in a box lined with satin
I could call a meeting to start
a movement against eating
all the time because we don't
know why do we need it
after all? when we've eaten
so well so many times already
and our bodies are sturdy or even
fat as the emptiness within which
keeps growing with a smile
on his (her?) face we covet instead
of eating I could write
like a poet to replace emptiness
with words unspoken
yet in verse like "discount
shoes" or "lazy eye" I could
feel good about my
self if I didn't eat it would
be purposeful and satisfied
for once my self I mean
and I could take it out
on the streets with me in
a little jacket and we
could go for long walks
vigorously instead of