ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 4

ABOUT TO SIT DOWN
Stepping out the back door...


KISS HIS EAR
Brown corn bends as...


STALLING OUT
Just by getting enough distance...


PAGE ZERO
my mind's blank wall...


PARTING
words just off...


CRICKETS HESITATE
the night...


FROM AND TO
my first eternity...


IN THIS LITTLE POEM OR WORLD
I mislaid my travel plans the map...


FIELD GUIDE
indigo bunting no words...


untitled
I knew...


I STAY UP LATE
studying to live...


POEM OF EXPOSURE
the tender outcry...


untitled
underground I'll turn to you...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM TATE
I consider it a citizen's duty...


STANDING STILL IN
november...


HOW I TRAPPED THE MURDERER
I left out the part...


PROVERB
he who sleeps a false sleep...


A SUNDAY NIGHT SERMON FOR DAVID BAKER
The first step is to listen,...


I AM PART BUZZARD
my grandmother was a buzzard...


DEAR FUCKHEADS
my head hurts...


TILL IT THAWS
1....


RESOLUTION
I am so glad...


EVENING POEM
in the cellar...


DISTURBANCE
the world is alive...


FLIGHT
the gamblers...


VISIT
Buying toys, the one remaining copy...


STORM
in trouble again...


JUST AFTER DAWN
We sat among the cattle and he asked me ...


INTERPRETATION
Hour begets hour, dream begets dream,...


THE BUZZARD SPEAKS
I am proud...


INTERRUPTION
not knowing what to say...


JOSEPH'S POEM
if you wish to own a fear...


DIS-ORDER
of course...


BLUE MILLION
in the house dark...


untitled
blank pages spit their silence...


BROKEN POEM
life goes through...


AUTOBIOGRAPHY VOL. II
the day before my birth...


MARENGO
the pressure of seasons...


TODAY
awoke in the forest...

Listen!


NAKED AGAIN


It's night and I'm naked again
so there is no barrier between my sleep and yours,
I come to you nakedly to tell you
your dreams are real,

you do have to wash away the green clay of our making
outdoors, before thousands,
you do have to tell your father it makes no difference
that he sleeps with a woman younger than you,
though it does--and when you tell yourself
they can do as they please, you'll just watch TV,
you must realize the TV is in the bedroom with them,

and when you say never mind I'll smoke some pot,
you must remember they have the pot, too,
and when you rise, you will see
a man with a shaven head wearing a black skirt,
he is dancing on one foot but he does not spill his coffee,
he is singing his dream, which is of being told
to accept the manifold true ways of the Buddha,
he is joyous that he has awakened and does not
have to accept this or any other dream as true, he begs
to remind you, though, that the decision is ours,

to accept or not to accept, and it is made nakedly,
standing on the green clay, there will be footprints,
they will harden in the sun and hold forever the pattern,
the point of balance can be seen and the joint that carries
the heaviest weight, the callouses are outlined clearly,
but who will be there to read them?