ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

sequence #
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11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20

  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 12

untitled
it's as the world is...


SONG
in the beak of one bird...


I STAND
before the tree...


PLUS A DAY
the eastern light...


ME STANDING STILL
by my feet infant trees...


10/8/03
trunk in the forest lit...


APPLE AND NEARFULL MOON
first bite of an apple...


SUNSET AUTUMN
the brilliant west...


UNEXPECTED LOVE
the cranes hovering...


STILL POOL
inked by falling leaves...


10/23/03
moody cemetery...


ACROSS IN
air...


IN MY NEW BLACK JACKET
beanfields shake their rattles...


OUR TRIP
it is like...


ALAN AFTER HE LEFT
missed out on certain sundays...


5:55
moon gone...


SOMETIME IN THE SEASON
a shower blowing headlines past...


THE HILL WAS BRIGHT GREEN
the crow was darker...


FOLLOWING
the road coming out of my mouth...


NEW SORROWS EVERY DAY
the birds flying through my head...


REAL REMEMBRANCE
the wind as the weather changes...


MY POEMS
I said and then paused...


12/1/03
branches bare their birds to the wind...


LONG FULL
the evening land...


AROUND
the way the world looked to him...


ON THE WORLD
this world is one...


FROM THIS BLUFF
trees having shed their leaves...


WOODS: ZONE
where loneliness finds itself...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM WRIGHT
when the sea comes back...


WILDNESS COMES BACK
The wild in America is contained, pushed back, owned by the people...


3/1/04
the road is quiet...


AUTOBIOGRAPHY VOL. III
in the desert of eternity...


FOR ONCE
setting a course...


YELLOW BIRCH RAVINE, HEMLOCK CLIFFS
go an hour south...


PRESERVED
how a house becomes a ruin...


INSTANT PRACTICE
I have failed...


TEACHER
breath of breaths...


UNTIL
this dream we are living...


OF THE NINETEEN THOUSAND
of the nineteen thousand days of my life so far...


UNDISTURBED
The night after the poetry reading I slept well but towards morning...


SHORT SPRING SHOPPING LIST
forsythia...


WAZOO,
out the:...


7/20/04
the dead wood's fruit...


ELEGY
told me two weeks before he died...


MY CAREER I
near the cascades leaping recklessly...


MY CAREER II
standing on the vast roof that evening...


UNAFFLICTED
summer somnia...


WHAT I NOTICED AND WHAT I THOUGHT
trees shook by wind...


PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE
so happy with me...


WHILE THE MASS EXTINCTIONS
went on there were...


LEFT
to have waited...


LESSON
the heart tilted over...


MODERN SINKHOLES
near the house...


EVERYWHERE
this time of year...


WEEKEND SCENE
walking in circles forwards...


LAST DAY OF SUMMER
a tree lighter by a leaf...


DRY
the natives mow their lawns...


FIRST LIGHT
the other great example...


THE BOLD AND THE PALE
the morning glories have surged up the trellises...


I'M HAPPY
when I say I'm happy...

Listen!


THE UNLOVED BELOVED


"The Unloved Beloved" is written by the crazy son of the man
who teaches the masculine arts in the back of his hardware
store.  Everybody takes his classes, for he never shames his
students for their difficulties. He even forgives the one
who stole a Winchester propped against a wall in the rain
with a "please don't steal me" sign on it.  He needs help.
His fishing lines are tangled, and he wants reassurance about
his son, who is supposed to be good at what he does, though
his father does not understand.  What the man seeks from the
thief is confirmation that his son does well, that he is famous,
which is the kind of information only a thief would have.  The
man and the thief walk downstairs together, not where the police
can see them but behind all the activity in the store and mer-
cifully far away from the other students.  "He takes up a lot
of space," the thief says. "I mean, more than just his own."
He wants the man to be pleased, but he has never understood
such men, and he fears his comment will be taken poorly, so the
thief turns to the man and smiles and tries to make a joke of it.
He must not piss off the one man who could explain him to himself
in such a way that he could see he is not a thief, that what he's
done is entirely acceptable to the teacher of masculine arts.