Monday, December 14, 2009

The Gray Notebook

an elegy

all that is left of it

this moody cow needs to meditate


I believe




all out


first snow

chair out of place I

all of them


out of place

chair out of place II


a wheel job

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Every Number is a Nightfall

sincf 1997

the ginkgo leaf
::green hold::


panda patrol

grand ole

O, my void



coat of many colors

poems by a. minetta gould


Karena: felt heart

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Was it a vision, or a waking dream? [...] Do I wake or sleep?

traveling home: boise has the best pinball machines

russy's stall: a beautiful yellowing.

russy's apartment

a mirror: reflected

m. with new teeth
[she's written two chap books: one of her mother trying to pick flowers to no avail & the other of her mother picking up a. because she's been bad. Freud, anyone?]

leaves on a wet black bough

m. & a.m.g.

office bathroom: matches my eyes

fear I've lost this scarf: peacock over shoulder

sings for days
::venus--break us::

Lunar Tercets

Things are not as we would have them be. / The moon is not a yellow sow /

hung from a meat hook // on a drab shed wall: it is a moon. /

Ashes do nothing / while we sleep: they are trees. //

Satellites are not boys circling the low-back chairs /

and record heaps of their drunken masters: they are machines. /

The board-hipped distended form stepping in the foam. //

is not someone going to wet her legs / but no one, phantom without live taxis. /
she thinks, Ships in the night are cruel ships. //

Even if, her left ear aimed at the brack / even if the claps and peeling lulled /

she would not hear the canvas smack //

there would be no din in the hull /

no luminations in the masts: /

tonight the moon soils its pallet //

and what will emerge in the light by my bedside but No One, /

her gown ratty from seawater and sand and from bedless cubicles /
bedowned by whirling feathered things.