spring scenes
some poems from 2021
i. what’s next— the simple fact; sunbathing in the simple fact; cold; or, bright; or, earth— each its tempo each its earth-thing guarding it eachly garden it freshly like a flowerstone ii. how many times does the seed fall before it’s fallen had to be which clouds cloud the falling which flower fills with pollen how many times does the robin say no before saying yes this twig has just the right stiffness about it which wind whips the stiff stick down and how many times does that leapweaver weft then rest upon its oaky laurelled nests ants—but not too many sunny—and quite so hello! i say in the morning i like when it’s the morning i like when it’s the sun and quite so i like when the buds pile up and heavy down into leafing i carry on, mostly, my little secret mystic pal says the hazelnut tree is already in bloom/ while the lover of Love has a sad lot or all living things/ loose themselves/ from the torment of cruel winter/ but it is all over for me/ unless Love quickly/ consoles me for my cruel destiny a little dramatic sure but how can i disagree when i am already in bloom when in winter do as the rivers do— continue, mostly, usually, coldly, quiet when in spring, loosely, it is all over for me! i have forgotten the hyacinth humble how can i forget the hyacinth humble i have forgotten the honey drip of snow i have forgotten the bumble bee bumble show i have forgotten the hocus crocus reappearing act i have forgotten the sun even yes the sun the sun the sun i have forgotten the heat which i used to carry like a pretty little tote bag but i think i do think that i have remembered the tree the bark the bite the switch the bird i do remember those plants that grow on roots that grow on trees that grow old rings on those notes the birds sing springly for me those notes not too many but quite so iii. i want my feet covered in mud but the water washes the water washes my feet the water washes mud off my feet she washes my feet gently how typically biblically gently she washes the mud off my feet biblically until they are clean she washes my feet until they are clean until the water is muddy and my feet are clean the water gives her cleanliness to me and i give my muddiness to her until my feet are clean and the water is not iv. i really should learn to stop running my mouth sometimes like its such a bore but when they’re out there blowing the tops off mountains like that’s some biblical shit and not in the fun way, can i even say wow, spring! without acknowledging the big bad oil suckers out there? like can’t i have a little fun without the humdrum run of the mill apocalypse bummer part? like i am having a little fun of course i am, but my pals the trees and my little pals in the trees are mostly not having a lot of fun these days— old growth timber? never met her! there’s beetles and blights wildfires lumber buyers and mills milling killers out there—real party animals spike trees if you know you know and i won’t say any more but that’s the way to die with style isn’t this whole thing trying to find a way to die with style? like, that’s the bit right? we all know we’re going down with this ship but why not go down on each other too still water still washing my still feet still how can i say tree say fruit say green without saying buzzzzzsaw i say i saw it buzz saw it buzz saw it say nice forest you got there, be a shame if someone saw through it sawed through it buzzzzzzz one day maybe i’ll perch in a tree and my friends will shuttle up sandwiches for me while i look at the buzzzzzsaws below and say no thanks, i’ll stay right here! in the tree i’ll say no before i say yes then weave a nest then fall from it like every bird has to and on the way down i’ll ask the wind which wind whips me i’ll say no but then i say yes i say yes bud yes bloom heavy down into leaves yes into stumps yes into dust as we all must eventually yes death one day in the tree i’ll say yes death yes who will console me for my cruel destiny—and quickly!