Morning Stretch

From first uncovering
In pre morning light
Stretching all points coordinate
The clavicles in particular
For each day’s anti-hunch

Via math simple and precise
All prime or better yet perfect
By disposition symmetrical
Doing each rep twice
Introducing that bit of sameness
Into the daily mix
Like a pinch of yeast

So that each day
I may go forth unchanged
But steeped in your spirit
In this body I wear
Like a provisional name
More open in mind and chest
Expressing equal susceptibilities
To salvation and ruin
Holding least suspicion
Of bad intent

More alive and hopeful
More at Liberty
Whether by speaking
As I please
Or seeking release
By hurtling with
Great vehemence
Along the path
I have followed
Without regret or distinction
For a dozen years

Perhaps eventually
Arriving close to the
Island’s nether region
Where so many have found
Full measure of freedom
My pulse quickens in kinship
Surprisingly free of can’t
And surpassingly plain

However unlikely
I’ll finish even a small
Part of the work
Belatedly begun
But having stretched
To full extent
I content myself
By striving
To understand more
While hearing less
And by the
Strenuous pursuit of
The beauty of fading flesh

From the Desk of the General Counsel

On the working lives
Of great American poets
And those lesser well known
Who have sought place for words
Amidst the desktop clutter
Paying enough but
Only so much regard
Lured by the brass ring
But not without misgivings
We strayed and stayed
Then sold our birthright
For the monotonous plenty
Of corporate living
Surrendering our
Unfettered freedoms
For more nuanced rights
Of commercial free speech

How much better would
Our poems have been if we
Weren’t already primed
By professional training
Or otherwise so inclined
To wander in this endless
Thicket of qualifying phrases
Nor so prone to the pretense
That hidden meaning would
Better adhere to our words
Like burrs if we could but
Free ourselves from conventions
Of plain English speaking

Oh sisters and brothers
How we labored on
In the dismal vineyard
Captive and anxious making
Headway through the ranks
Ascending to vice presidency
All without giving vent
To inkling of doubt
In metered verse about
The whys and wherefores
Of our miserable day jobs
Through which we drank
And whored and pined
For a fiction more supreme
On the slopes at Vail
Or amidst the Florida pines
Whether we swung
Straight down the fairway
Or drunkenly at Hemingway
In dark mood or sublime

And who knows better
The Snowman’s curse
Than each and every one of us
Who has been bored
For the same long time
By the nothing that is
And always shall remain
In the fine print
Of the actuarial table
Or footnoted brief
Where it says
With irony unintended
That imagination starved
Will long out-endure
Consciousness stuffed
And overawed

But while I too have
Battled tedium and
Given imagination free rein
Always subject to email
And telephone
Constraint
I have learned
To make the most
Of what comes
Ready to hand

Thus not so much
Of miracles at Key West
Am I singing as of the
Ever refreshing mess
On my desktop and the
Plain simple benefit
Of attaining
A decent living in such
Uncertain times

And even though
No poem of mine
Has ever
Brought food to table
It may have sustained me
All the same even without
Benefit of critical acclaim

For having pursued truth
Daily in verse to the
Same strict standard
With which I have prepared
My annual tax returns
Claiming deductions
Wherever I can
But always signed
Under penalty
Of perjury

To find your voice
First you must have
Lost your way
But once found
There’s no reason
To stay in the forest
Forever without
First obtaining
Ample provisions

Armed with this
Intelligence the
General Counsel
Sits at his desk
In Buddha like
Contemplation of
His happy belly
And ponders the merits
Of early retirement

梦蝶 灭 (Dream of a butterfly slaughtered)

Of the backfilled thoughts
Across so many years
That wear you out and
Grind you down
And leave you hoping
For someone who
Someday just might
Happen to reappear

Of a multitude of
Engagements
Past imperfect
And the ripeness of
Certain fruit of
First youth
So fresh you
Somehow sense
It may never be
The right time
To move along
Into another aisle
Stocked with
Whatever
Canned goods

The din we made
You and me
In the full idiocy of
Over-privileged youth
Was more than loud enough
To shatter the peace
Of a distant afternoon

Deciduous or not
I ask myself
In circular fashion
If surviving doesn’t
Make me feel nearly
As guilty as you daily felt
About the pulp
You wrought
And those whom
You brought down
To their knees

And now that you’re
Gone and I’ve
Emptied my purse
Once and for all
I find myself
Standing here
By the check out counter
Needing to figure my own way out
Between the doubts and fears
Of loving you
Even so
After so many
Years

Ode to a Wife Left Behind

With apologies to Anna
For the none too literal
translation

Such a cold proud man
But perhaps you can understand
How he truly thought
He was following
God’s righteous words
With his righteous deeds

And what can he say
About his loving wife
Who once and forever
Lost her original name

Whether you think
The less of her or not
Just because she couldn’t
Keep from looking back

At the earthen towers
Of her native Sodom
And the childhood pavilions
She couldn’t begin
To fathom life without

Suddenly she
Looked to the rear
And I imagine
Once nimble her feet
Became rooted
To the spot
Captured
So they tell me
In a transparent tower
Of salt and tears

For all of you
Kind enough to ask
I’ve learned so much
About the insignificance
Of my own life
With or without her

But no I never once
Looked back
Nor have I surrendered
To the least regret
For what the good Lord
Commands
One and all
Must abandon
Though I miss her so much
The woman who ventured all
For a single glance

Poem for Mr. Apology

If everyone takes 

More than a little 

Whatever remains 

Must sustain 

Those left behind 

For Tahnee 

Among others 

Following in your footsteps 

While out for midnight 

Postering 

Attention blue 

And white collar criminals 

Attention you cheats and frauds 

Attention sex workers 

And pleasure seekers 

Those with long drawn faces 

And with smirking smiles 

For ordinary people 

With extraordinary 

Secrets and regrets 

Locked in silence 

Most of the time 

Not to speak 

With mournful voice 

But seriously inclined 

While riddled with joy 

In celebration of the 

Perverse logic of  

Humankind

Being one-half animal 

And the other half god 

We can and must 

Figure this out 

As best we can 

It could be far worse 

Much worse after all 

As we are inevitably 

Destined for decline

From bombs 

In the basement 

Well accomplished 

From first to last 

At every art he tried 

Of figure study in the studio 

With daylight shaft 

Piercing the interior 

On the farther South Side 

To know art 

Is to know being 

Both possible 

And palpable 

Everywhere 

All of the time 

But for now 

Read these block letters 

As I know you can 

And rejoice in your 

Exalted position 

Atop the food chain 

And please try to think 

And begin to explain

Both about what you ate 

To get where you are 

And what’s eating you 

That’s right 

My beloveds 

Every last one 

Of the great unwashed 

Urban scum 

Just call Mr. Apology 

And let him help you 

Lay it out on the line

To Lay a Body Down on the Water

Sometimes I feel
Like old Captain Sully
Trying to position myself
For an eventual soft landing
Held aloft by the wind
As if I’m dropping into
A bed of clover
Nose tucked up
Proceeding belly first

Yeah just like Sully
As he heads
Down the River
Attending to his task
Rudder in hand
In immaculate fashion
Unrehearsed
If you need to land
That contraption
Somewhere Sully
Please don’t make it
My backyard

From 5,000 feet
In the air
50 tons feels bulky
Unassisted by
Mechanical thrust
But descends more
Gradually than
You otherwise think
Would be possible
Held aloft by a
Column of air
Streaming down
From the north
Then turning sheer
To the east

Oh yeah
Just like Captain Sully
I want to lay
This body down
So gently on the water
With the wind
Streaming down
Sheer to the East

And I want to get myself
Into position
For that sweet soft landing
With the wind in my face
Held aloft by the ocean breeze
As I’m dropping into place
Nose tucked up
Proceeding belly first

Song of Winter Shadows

What I discovered
During this long cold winter
Looking into shadows
As they come and go
Is something I think
You should know

Shadows come
In many colors
But among all the others
You always find a blue

That’s what I’m telling you
When you look into
Winter shadows
You always find a blue

As the January day
Extends in length
The light softens
At the edges
And I look deep
Into the shadows
Where among
All the colors
I always find a blue

That’s what I’m telling you
When you look into
Winter shadows
You always find a blue

During winter more
Than any other time
Nature comes to you
Spare and uncovered
You look deep
Into her shadows
And there you discover
A rich world of color
And among all the others
You always find a blue

That’s what I’m telling you
When you look into
Winter shadows
You always find a blue