OCCUPANTThe sad mailbox of my extreme youth, what did it ever deliver? The only...
A CRITICPick up your socks. Clean the house once in a while. Go to the dentist. ...
HISTORIANPiles and piles of books, boxes of documents, photographs, bones, shreds of clothes...
YOU WHO KNOWI was just enough bigger that I could wrestle you into the clean straw of the mow...
GRIFFY LAKEI spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces where they fell...
Dear Eric,
I spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces
where they fell. Gulls plunged simple cries at me, dissolving
mist, and kids from town tracked love along my banks, leaving
a spoor of underwear. In the back reaches of my shadowy woods,
showy orchis and spiderwort made a play of bold perishing color.
When you floated naked, my waves were tongues washing you back
to beginnings. Wind from my hills blew music from your lips.
One spring they drained me to the bottom and spilled poison on the
fish's privacy. Refilled, I wait for the next change or violation,
brooding on my lost fish and the shame of my bare mud. Come again
as you did before, whenever you wish, moonlight or blinding sun.
Griffy Lake