ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 6

untitled
the first page is spoiled...


WHAT FUN IS THIS
the best-tied shoes and most...


POEM BEGINNING WITH MY NAME
Eric...


SELF PORTRAIT
I am not a poet...


THE MOON'S WHITE BODY
it costs everything...


STOP DON'T DO IT
I am caught on the scaffold...


THEY SAID
I address my prayers to...


STOOD TO SPEAK IN CONFUSION
the eye dividing itself in thirds...


ALL THE NURSING IN THE WORLD
fellow citizens I speak to you of health...


YOUTH OF AMERICA
sex now is not the sex it was...


untitled
I never tell you the truth...


REM
Due to neglect of the most important parts of sleep, all the...


WAKING
their eyes all...


CURIOSITY
the president of the future...


THEN
your rain falls...


EXAMINATION
Called to death's home town to account...


WHAT TO DO
make maps...


HOUSEHOLD
my human soul...


ONE SHELF OF MANY
a book about murdering...


ON THE EIGHTH DAY
God made puddles...


WHAT HE BUILT AND HOW IT WORKED
on a flat surface tilted towards...


REQUEST
I want a stone above me...


APRIL
the horizon is only the horizon...


I AM
whose shadow am I...


untitled
in the cave of my eye...


untitled
a difference...


untitled
it's not possible...


HEEDING
press my wrist to my ear...


THEFT OF LINES FROM ELIADE, ANGLETON, STOKER, AND ROTHENBERG
Mother of Sleep...


WHAT DID I NOTICE ABOUT TODAY
leaves mostly down...


GIFT
here is a stone...


IN INDIANA
dogwood holds out its hands palms upward...


HERE WE ARE
the nuthatches land on my porch...


MAIN THEMES
consciousness of loss...


LOVELINESS OF DISTANCE
some nights...


GOD MY WITNESS
open hearted...


SIGH
once gone...


untitled
so many things...


THE USUAL
a phone call rouses me...


CHECK UP
the noble doctors...


YESTERDAY
one comes to my door...


DIAGNOSIS
needs will need and again will need...


WORKING ON
my biography...


MISTAKEN
have come to understand...


HERE/NOT HERE
a bit of ice on things...


untitled
strip of gold colored ribbon...


BUSY
making my dust...


PROPOSITIONS
white hours...


NIGHT, THAT MAKES US SEE
what enters as a blow on the shoulders...


LIFE WITHOUT IDOLS
like any protestant...


THANK YOU NOTE
the heavy clouds...


I WRITE
to tell you how...


NOTHING WASTED
Trial and disillusionment, the stone's...


THROUGH THIS BEFORE
shoulders bent...


POINT OF VIEW
wind world...


untitled
my pulse in...


TRANSLATION
the eye that...


OCCUPIED
all night erasing...


THE RECOGNITION
bird that unspeaks itself...


REMEMBER WRITERS AND READERS
toward the last...

LOVELINESS OF DISTANCE


some nights
struck calm in the midst of trees
stoney ground not hills not level
our earth's surface moving all the time
whether or not we see it
washing away and resisting
so it takes on a shape in the shadows
gathered at the knees of the woods
a definite longlasting impermanent
shape for the roots to dig into
I standing halfway up the side
of a cup made of part of the world
looking into the stars and stroke of moon
no other lights nearby
hearing night sounds of dogs distantly
wind in the upper branches
some small four footed thing
shaking the dead leaves as it ducks
from one hiding place to another
suddenly out of a deep corner of the sky
comes a blinking orange and red pair of lights
I know up there is people
on the only thing between stars and earth
going where going where
and it must be that one at least looks down
and tries to see tries to imagine


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