ㅁ Dreamed I searched for a book but failed to find wandered cities, towns the tierra caliente in Mexico's humid south a book of hand-drawn maps appeared the man refused to sell it to me
Category: Nonnet
Caveat: Poem #1618 “The air takes action”
ㅁ Wind solid transparent ephemeral touches of cold air damp with the falling rain making the trees' branches wave and lash at the resistant sky until at last it yields to the dawn.
Caveat: Poem #1617 “Teleology”
ㅁ Dark mornings surrounding meditations on the topic of the purpose of living and the vague expectations that arise quotidianly and then fade like a gust of wind.
Caveat: Poem #1601 “Back and forth”
ㅁ We drove into town, to the stores there. Also, there was an appointment, at the clinic in Klawock. We had the time wrong, though. We had to leave then... come back later. We drove south and north... and...
Caveat: Poem #1600 “Free bird”
ㅁ I watched the cormorant watching me. It can be easily alarmed. And then it will launch itself serenading the sea, squawking and flapping, highly annoyed, dismissive, aloof, free.
Caveat: Poem #1599 “The anti-navigational manifesto”
ㅁ A small white moth caught some sunset light, dodging raindrops along the road. There's not much navigation taking place in its brain, it seems, as I watch: hanging in there, drop to drop, swoop up, down.
Caveat: Poem #1598 “Cheaper than radar speed enforcement”
ㅁ Potholes proliferate in the road. They become gravel-based life forms. In slow-motion, they merge, swirl: mudpuddle amoebas, tasting your truck's tires, eating stray stones, lying there, slowing all.
Caveat: Poem #1597 “East wind”
ㅁ If it's from the east we get some wind. Then the tree-branches wave outside. Whitecaps appear on the sea. Clouds struggle to stay gray. Shadows play around. Bushes convulse. The dock creaks. Birds swoop. Sighs.
Caveat: Poem #1596 “The curmudgeonly elf”
ㅁ In my role as curmudgeonly elf, I tried hard to keep the mood light. It's all just a performance. But sometimes convincing. I make a few puns and awkward jokes. People laugh. I shrug. Smile.
Caveat: Poem #1595 “Groping along”
ㅁ I rarely walk outside after dark. So when I did, last night, I saw: a faded reddish planet, a wheeling dome of stars, the deepest shadows of looming trees: no edges, but just dark.
Caveat: Poem #1594 “Thursday is shopping day”
ㅁ We went to town for Thursday shopping. Our first stop was the library - had to refresh DVDs. Next was the post-office. And then, groceries. A cold wind blew. But no snow. So far. Soon.
Caveat: Poem #1593 “Retail tales”
ㅁ The woman comes in regularly. Sometimes she just wants to visit. She has crossstitches to frame. There are things to be bought. Yesterday she told me she'd once worked here. Long ago, she'd stood, too.
Caveat: Poem #1592 “Legends from the islands hereabout”
ㅁ The native man came into the store. He often comes in to converse, which is hard because he's deaf. He talked about a girl who fell in a creek in Ketchikan... almost drowned, but then, saved.
Caveat: Poem #1508 “Daily percepts”
ㅁ I saw stones resting against the earth. I saw the trees for what they were. I saw a bear by the road. I saw the slanting sun. I saw fleeting thoughts. I saw the sea. I saw clouds. I saw. Slept.
Caveat: Poem #1500 “Carcereal bindery”
ㅁ Books. Once, there, long ago, I had a job. I had to make books. There were machines, workers, loud sounds, and conveyor belts. Last night I dreamed I returned there. It was being run by the police.
Caveat: Poem #1491 “Landing in Beyem”
ㅁ The chill wind came off the frozen lake. The city lurked among its hills. A large ship rested, icebound. Still, the streets teemed with life. Columns of smoke rose. I walked along. Some birds spun. Sun shone. Lost.
Caveat: Poem #1473 “Language overtakes”
ㅁ Behold the novel impermanence that post-modernity grants us: culture's spinning, mindless wheels; entrained electrons' songs; epistemic games rendered raptures by thrumming, humming words.
Caveat: Poem #1472 “Words urging patience”
ㅁ They said the trees would make me peaceful. They said the rain would wash my soul. They said the stones would hold me. They said that time goes on. They said other things. They said stories. They said wait. They said so.
Caveat: Poem #1471 “Alternate approaches”
ㅁ No I don't really know why I feel lost but if I didn't then I would know why not and I could get on with things walk down the road confidently confront the hesitations and doubts
Caveat: Poem #1470 “Disconsolate greens”
ㅁ Things grow up and outward in my greenhouse filling the corners with effortful branches but then a mildew has come and attacked many of the leaves leaving my plants unmotivated
Caveat: Poem #1469 “A dynasty of questions”
ㅁ When the words flow through dreams like water, then the ghosts hang at the margins. They listen to what we say, and jump to conclusions. The air leans in, close. Answers are rare: so questions converse; reign.
Caveat: Poem #1447 “Lost”
ㅁ Adrift in seas of melancholy Witness to birds that perch in trees Scattered like dandelions Gray just like the damp skies Renderer of lines Painted but dull Wordless soul Person Lost
Caveat: Poem #1446 “How poetry works”
ㅁ No. Poems which linger in the mind's eye do not represent anything except words. They spill out like spilled gravel, like insects lost in the damp air, and in the end they fade like old logs.
Caveat: Poem #1436 “I’ll get over it”
ㅁ I've not been in a good mood lately. The sky feels heavy and brooding. Uncles toss profanities. Birds force their cheerfulness. Tomato plants climb. Slugs cross stairways. Dampness dwells. Time stops. Dawn...
Caveat: Poem #1428 “Plan for a future debate”
ㅁ Wind. Outside. Awaits me. More like a breeze. Arboreal moves. A waving of branches. Having crossed the sea, it comes. It chases bears and deer, they say. I will challenge the wind in debate.
Caveat: Poem #1424 “The official statement from the clouds”
ㅁ We, the assembled, drift and declaim: We permit your wind to bring us - a conspiracy of clouds, in collective action - to your continent. Your straining trees, your cold rocks, told us: stay.
Caveat: Poem #1409 “An otter on the question of boats”
ㅁ I, a bold sea otter, witness the boats that cross the sea's roof and that scare our children; the boats drone their hot dirges in their unusual straight lines, interrupting our happy repasts.
Caveat: Poem #1405 “Optional philosophy”
ㅁ Watch the world, through windows, from a distance, keeping perspective, avoiding confusion, constructing mental models, testing them against what happens... or alternately just sit and watch.
Caveat: Poem #1399 “Snails”
ㅁ Snails have found radish leaves in my garden. They are so happy. Still, the radishes grow. The snails rush from leaf to leaf. The radishes seem unconcerned: new leaves appear daily to feed snails.
Caveat: Poem #1397 “Guardian”
ㅁ I was told I was quite eccentric. This was in this dream I was in. My friend Bob was there, talking. He had an unreal farm. There were outbuildings. Within, some boats. A woman. She slept. Safe.
Caveat: Poem #1396 “The long view”
ㅁ Yes. It's true - what they say: I am a tree. Let's focus on that. I cling to the damp earth. The skies taunt me day and night. I'll get at them any year now. The days are like seconds spinning by.
Caveat: Poem #1394 “No one is watching”
ㅁ The tree was leaping into the sea. It tangled its branches, flailing. The sea was indifferent. Eagles were witnesses. The tree's roots were caught. Moss rode its flanks. The clouds watched. Birds sang. Jump!
Caveat: Poem #1392 “Bespoke geographies”
ㅁ Maps. Fictions. Diagrams. Imaginings. Strange realities. Bespoke geographies. Alternate universes. Linear agglomerations. Maybe just a way to pass some time.