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 To Quote St. Francis

Driving
old
146A
(one shudders
imagining
b thru z)
and

they call
this life
sentence a
“commute”?
oh

speak to
me (I shout)
of the glory
of God
generic

black bird
transepts
my path
identical
shadow
buffing
the fluttering
pavement
smoothing
one from
other
this from
that

 Adulthood

you’ll know
you’ve
reached it
when
you see
you are
not
missed
not enough
to change
things via
absence

that
irony
and
life
are
synonyms

and when
beneath
the blue grained
hourglass
under which
dense and distant
we live

although
your manuscript
is unaccepted
although
your middle
child (a daughter)
will not speak
to you

looking up
you say
I have this Oh
I have this
 

 

 Poem

I had one
nearly all
written for
you in my
head on the
way to school

I should have
pulled over
grabbed that
Dunkin Donuts
napkin

now all
I can remember
is the one
word
gem

the rest’s all
run away
like crowds
of effervescence on
a windshield
 

like a dream
that vanishes
center-first
framing you
asleep beside me
and day now
open

gem

 

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