ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

sequence #
1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20

  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 5

untitled
some words last longer...

THEORETICAL
just read the words...

AN ACCOUNT
it wasn't as if any...

THE NIGHT OF THE BIG STORM
the neighbor boy with candles...

untitled
day that hesitates...

9/4/94
morning the flowers...

LUCK
of birds to have wings...

MEMORY
noon the infinite...

9/1/94
eulogy strains those heads...

HOW TO
ceremonies must be long...

A MAN OF WAR
rises through the air...

TALE
midnight pours out his heart...

TITLE NO TITLE
if your hand...

I'LL TRY AGAIN
it chases me...

24 HOURS
night as a cistern...

NOTICING
how to be literal as a last gasp...

LOOKOUT
looking out from a window in the treetops...

RETURN
in someone's house or in a barn...

MY WALK
being secret and smart...

ONGOING
that rush rush...

MONEY WORRIES
dreaming of an owl...

MABLE MCKIBBEN RENSBERGER
grandmother of underground places...

untitled
memory bled...

PAGE TORN FROM THE BOOK OF MEMORY
where it is flat the wind...

APOSTROHE
moon bone bright I...

untitled
for luck a fire...

EXAMPLES
slipped on the carpet at the turn of the stairs...

GIVE ME JUST A MINUTE
The room blurs. I can't think....

TELLING ABOUT
argument with my shadow...

DOCTORS MISUNDERSTAND
blue circles approaching my eyes...

HERE'S AN IDEA
what about...

COLDER WIND
everything is...

BEING TOLD GOODBYE
I am in the limited area...

MY LETTERS
continuator of hieroglyphs...

HELP ME
this poetry has grown too heavy...

RETURN THE FAVOR
doc buzzard in your cart...

SURVEYOR'S DREAM
to keep all the directions...

SEEN FROM A DISTANCE
the poems he has forgotten...

TRAVEL
atlas of devastation...

WE SING
day...

AS I SLEEP
I am blind stumbling...

PRACTICE WITH MY EYES
a hero of waiting...

WORDS I CANNOT UNDERSTAND
bad traffic on the way to...

CHANGE IN THE WEATHER
the wailing stops...

WHAT WILL I WRITE ON THE LAST PAGE
blank paper stares at me...

8/25/09


it was hot like this
my first day too
chickens expired in their coop
people consoled themselves
with the thought of september
the clouds which refused us rain
were said to be the most beautiful of the summer
as they sailed by

I couldn't put anything into words
I was all about sensation
and flapping my arms around
having no place to keep memories
I was likely to forget the day
as soon as it happened
nor could I look ahead and imagine
that tomorrow would be a better day
or a worse one
no one could teach me a thing

probably I cried wholeheartedly
and ate and shat and slept
the sleep would have been
the same as waking
no difference between
things I dreamed 
and things I saw
all unformed too new to be bizarre

there! I would have said to myself
if I had had speech or a self
to speak to
that's number one and now
on to number two or whatever it is that's next