Saturday, January 26, 2013

On the Ocean Road

Please don't remind me that I'm halfway there;
I've been quite lost since last July the eighth,
Kept to this ocean road based on my faith,
But bad religion's got me like a bear:
No revelations, nothing but despair
And aggravation. Hope is just a wraith —
We're hoping for a cuttlefish, a saithe,
Some bit of kale to chew, some better air.

Should I head inland? Should I put to sea?
Should I give up on love, embrace my loss,
And wait for death here? Put away the dross,
The wicked of the earth, the majesty
Of worn-out phrases ringing dismally,
And what remains? Flies? flotsam? Dental floss?

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Find Happiness

Find happiness among the yellow reeds
That line the ditches. Try to save your soul
Through rote responsive readings. Become whole
By savouring those salty pumpkin seeds
And wearing canvas shoes adorned with beads,
Removing racist terms like "jelly roll"
From your vocabulary. Have a bowl
Of cereal -- that's all a body needs.

Root out the feeling death has wandered near,
The attitude that you are someone's prey,
Ridiculous and helpless. What you say
Becomes reality, so root out fear,
All cold sensations. Dream loves will appear.
Root out dismay. Root out fear of dismay.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Unexpected Signals

The signs are clear: my doctor's wife surmised
I've had a large subcortical infarct.
These unexpected signals, unremarked,
Unchallenged, hearty but unrecognized,
Could open wounds already cauterized.
There was that hound, the one who never barked,
The tinfoil in the microwave that sparked,
And other places I've economized.

Who says love's greatest epoch has passed by?
My heart is open, and my eyes are clear,
I've overcome the ringing in my ear
By thinking of a rainbow and a lie,
And every girl is beautiful. You'll cry
When I explain. I, too, have shed a tear.