Wed Jul 23, 2008
from Ordinary Work
Kathleen Jesme3. Bee Counting
Central Park old beech trees begin to lose
their form
copper almost gold
the air turns sweet
bees panic
a day of sudden rain ends
the angle of the sun
along the shadowline:
a bowl tipped
on its side
_
Light seams down between the two darks
they play
at hiding each other: it becomes familiar
Listen, how we absorb the words
of immigrants
reel
them up
in this way all the world’s language
becomes yarn
Tue Jul 22, 2008
from Ordinary Work
Kathleen Jesme2. Map of the Floating World
Sun-scorched sheets of water under us
a tiny cross: shadow of the plane
cormorant flying low
_
Consecutive days
highs and lows
rain or snow
in the half-inch
moving in
the afternoon
_
Points back where we’ve come
when we are no longer
touching anything but sky
dark blobs of islands
closed eyes
in a huge face
the slight rounding far off north
I come to recognize later as horizon
_
It must be a house: you step over
and you are in—
whether solid or outlined—
_
He took me high enough to see
the thin ridge of sand between bodies of water
where he’d perched our lives
Small mark on the map: each arrangement erases what came before
and is itself
replaced
Mon Jul 21, 2008
from Ordinary Work
Kathleen Jesme1. Meanwhile
trespassers practice
their craft—
to say what they see there
unboundaried
visions
ethereal airs
the erotics of attachment
the hand-
kerchief dropped
and again fetched up by another hand
certain colors
uncertain
light
precursors
intruders
on the serried edges of
the self
the bitter daughter
bite of dog
edge of the trees
bucket of water: the drink
sudden famil-
iarity
and its opposite
the natural object: the trees the stones
and you—