by Jamie Houghton | 0 Comments
I
Somewhere
a man studies dryer lint
as evidence of entropy
what is lost?
Think of world shrinking
while eating cereal
tie it into shoes
as laces loosen
with each step
II
Somewhere
its sparkle or sickness
a restless skin
a keening in her blue
a fanatic for birds
her fingers breadcrumbs
She wanders
scrambling up granite cliffs
throwing the dogs over fallen
parts of forest
wake only to climb
other than this
she dozes
dreams the stuff of powder
oblivion
Ghosts of the house confer
Is it madness
that drew her
to this place?
or was it the land
alfalfa taking the fields
cattails taking the pasture
that drove her mad?
No weed-whacker
scythe
mower
suppresses the acres
III
Somewhere
a man lives with his descendants
to care for them
life's work
eating with rats
sleeping with rats
he stews pumpkin
sprinkles it with cumin, cardamom
finger feeds brothers, cousins, aunties
uncles with tiny pink hands
He speaks to them
of his daughters
feels the tip of his fingers
burrow into the earth
waits
does not expect
to sight the Goddess
the white rat
Sometimes a moment
is all you need
to miss a sighting
IV
Somewhere
there is a man who is not waiting
for a sighting
He is waiting for
someone
to see him
This desire
blinds him
V
Somewhere
there is a man
in circles
coffee, menthol smoke
slow afternoon sidewalk
hyacinth black as his boots
He saves Styrofoam cups
uses the same one for days
runs his thumb where
rim wears down
marvels how much bigger
the cracks feel
under his tongue
than his tiny
pink hands
VI
Somewhere hands
incapable
of being alone
VII
Nowhere world builder
shoulders thin
moving earth with shovel
blade
to make mountains
he must dig
a trail of lack
in his wake
He visits the river often
skin gleams to the brow
with its milk
his skin erodes
rocks warming
in his mouth
VIII
A heat engine between her ears
determines at breakfast
the horizon is
arbitrary
Stray houseplants be dammed
don't move a muscle
if lips or finger tips twitched
derelict sentences
entanglement
variance
She demonstrates relaxation by
not so much sitting
as gliding to the floor
Her reticence freezes
out the landscape
her throat ultraviolet.
IV
Some scientists examine
through microscope
telescope
He looks through
the rotating drum
of a dryer
the latest model
high efficiency loss
Not so much the lost fabric
he carries with him
but a slight drop
in temperature
a ticking wadded up softly
in his cheek like cotton
His daughter
comes home weekends
he does her laundry
hangs it in the sun
to dry
does not force
evaporation
from her dresses
On Sundays
she goes back to school
he crumples himself up puts himself into the Maytag low heat, tumble dry.
No one has commented on this page yet.
RSS feed for comments on this page | RSS feed for all comments
Back story to Gap-Tooth Girl Like so many poems, this one grew out of a fleeting, snapshot image: a local bar, a... Read More
An Interview with Charles Bowden This interview originally appeared in the Weekend Edition of Counterpunch, July 8 - 10, 2011 http://www.counterpunch.org/2011/07/08/war-on-the-border/ War on the... Read More
I got up this morning and starting walking at gray light through the hills and down under the cottonwoods and sycamores. There’d... Read More
(Long enough for the snow to pile up.) The sheep stands still In the wind-blown barnyard Under clouds slung low... Read More
Enough of the illusions, schemes for more, friends who aren’t Instead, buy a hazelnut farm in the Willamette Valley shell nuts and stay... Read More
One of my boyfriends says that I’m sexy with Jet-A fuel behind my ears. I suppose I’ve pumped enough of it... Read More
How did a rigor-mortissed rabbit’s foot end up an icon for good-luck? After all, the rabbit absent his foot isn’t very lucky... Read More
Not long ago I went to visit Palouse, Washington, artist Gaylen Hansen (HDJ issue #3). Hansen, of course, is the 89-year-old neo-expressionist,... Read More
I don't like to gut fish. I grant you that a trout's fluorescent-colored guts are interesting to poke with a stick, but... Read More
The Winnemem Wintu are a small Northern California tribe of 123 that traditionally lived on the McCloud River. During World War II,... Read More