from Live from the Woodley Park Marriott, Washington, DC
After my escape I wander along the margins,
a damp pistol heart. Drink says the voice
stepping out and out, drink to the edge
of your ribs, my little Tantalus.
The negligence of an ordinary
day, lifting it into your mind
until it disappears, is still ordinary.
The window is high up,
almost out of sight, more
and more is the light
blown out of the world’s
a fatalistic espionage.
Notice how I have risen to the tree tops, notice the views when the lungs give out:
small and thrown as any yellow light
bird timing yellow
yellow birding time
bird thrown worlds
Author Discusses Poems