| from The Rhino of our Dreams |
This bench has ceased
comfort in the sun
the tape rewinds the birds
an ant carrying a leaf
fleck crawls circuitously
I have folded
my notebook due to wind
the tape rewinds Joe
Ceravolo who died September
4, 1988 while I turned
12 girls told me my voice
changed the phone just
rang I am headed to New
York once again all
I think is certain slants
of sunlight tell more faults
the tape has rewound
what I haven’t yet
heard is who will take
what I offer when I
offer it will I fall
on my knees
then will
I lift what has already
lifted what the tree said
lifted into this poem
good fortune rings
but twice a man sits
across the park the breeze
across the park the asshole
walks across the park the wind
lifts my notebook pages
I imagine the light Californian
should I listen to the tape
or hold it to imagine what
it says I want to write a poem
to my friends Andy & Jed they
don’t love me anymore I want them
to know I will never stop giving
someone told me so it is Friday
November 4 President Bush
pushes his course in Latin America
I think it’s time for the tape:
press play
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