My Month in Review
Forget the iPhone Photo Journal! This month I look back through poetry...
Five Ways of looking at waiting:
A torpor trundles along in this bus
a kneeling bus they call it
perhaps like me
at least to the shuddering of it’s onslaught,
the exhaust and dirty buildings and billboards-
that lullaby of the highway.
Submitting perhaps like me
to the desire to achieve remarkableness
through vast ordinariness— to be intensely normal.
Baggy clothes, slouchy hair
and dirty door stoops.
Do you think I can?
What a shame then to have this opportunity-
the grand chance that is human existence-
gone to lethargy
and an ape.
days amount to squat
when you're living between plane tickets
and the kneeling bus.
I am no more destined
for a public life than Emily Dickinson—
and that’s about where the parallels end.
Sherry eyes and nightgowns on the stairs,
I am wishful of such prolificness!
Licking a creamy envelope
and tucking it in a winter mailbox to chill.
would I were so steady
or sure. Were you?
I don’t know yet what moves me
or how to un-kneel
unfold these legs
and rub my pimply knees.
I'd like to go
for a walk.
I want to
and tell me I don't lack passion.
There are soap suds
in the escarole tonight
and there are dishes of things to be thought tonight.
It is amazing what we are shown
by one keyhole glimpse of humanhood!
Standing at the sink
elbow deep in soap suds and the smell
of the burnt bottom of the pan
my hands are made like paper-
scratchy, meant to carry words
and dishes, perhaps, on nights like this.
I feel and am felt. I think this will last.
I’m germinating a pervasive, precious knowing
and this will be me in a forever sort of way.