Asleep and I think to walk on by
but I walk right on in
the sky comes over to me
shy and smiling--soft eyes, soft hands
the sky comes over me like new skin
and I get so happy I just can’t say it.
Running through my brain
is new sunshine and shiny rain
the world alight and waiting, birds
released barely beneath my breath.
Until the sun goes down fighting
(a little like a painted picture
cracks freezing through the skin)
the world slowly turns then hits me
handful of teeth, pomegranate seeds,
alive red tendrils at the end of each.
I don’t know why I don’t run or cry,
just watch as the world begins to hum
packing exactly the things it needs. I—
tell all I know of love to pass the time
(for Joy Wang)
And a god could still be
in that familiar caravan
running through my brain
writing beautifully in bloodstains
And in this memory of birds
not perfect, not free, but
clearing the first horizon
While I still sleep
dreaming that they know
all they once wanted
they are now.
James R. Kincaid, an English prof. at USC, has been writing in The Slate, and practically everywhere else, about how we are given to autom...
(Sorry to have been so solipsistic--although The Yunus Nobel and the Desai Booker provided the much-needed antidote to that : ) I have b...
Sunlight. arrogance sees, sleeps Now i understand: every thing you say. In the dark. heartbeat dee...
Friends and old neighbors shutting it down in honor of John Crawford. _
Yesterday at lunch with the awesome Pied Piper and an accomplished, pioneering writer whose anonymity we shall preserve, Piper turned to me...
Today is the birthday of the best sister in the whole world (mine:)! Happy, Happy Birthday, Chelli! [AA, my favorite aunt in the whole wor...
She knows that the child and his friend --another child-- read her words. She hides small messages of hope and love ...
Did the grown up thing and signed our wills today. Then I was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. All our year-long vacillations on the a...