Whenever I have a day off, I write a new poem. Does this mean you shouldn’t work, or that you
write best on your day off? For example, this is the poem I wrote today.
Listen to each word, a world in orbit; each phrase, a nova; essay the beach, each grain of sand a poem
do not sit idle, your paths stream before you. bank the raging fires and light laurel branches against the cold
Time builds its twelve tones between round & ruined.
I am the carnivore
the hounded night walker
searching for my wings scattered under glass
Those aren’t birds you hear, just their corresponding holes in the sky.
even in heaven they don’t sing all the time
because you called I’m here
because I haven’t a phone I’m here
let us start over & wake
rifles like we used to.
But when a word written
in the margin on a page on the wall
helps to assuage the pain of the tortured,
literature makes sense.