poetry

 

Flat One, 6am (from Where, the Mile End – Julie Morrissy)

do those moments belong 
to someplace else               somebody else
a giggle I don’t recognize
a dance I’ve never seen
skin against a door
a split second stirred

half thoughts                                               

half words

half smiles

hang in air I can’t touch

air within––

cool blue surrounds a kitchen counter
at unexpected corners, my eyes cry
the sting of smooth leather

that counter

that counter

asserts itself, resolute
a boat in a basement
the roll and pitch of bodies

some days I turn the corner
at Bathurst and Ulster, fall flat on my knees
palms smack sidewalk

pop


 

Pennsylvania Back Then (from Do Horses Fly? – Brendan Cleary)

i

in the 3-sided shed
I’m walking with the dead

running skipping & jumping
walking slow & fast

so in a dream was it?
water from years ago

stopped in mid-air
every splash & trickle

ii

ah the grids
the passing instants

wrestlers & athletes
wrinkles arriving

Blanche Eppler in 1885        
pouring water from a pitcher

unselfconscious & naked
half telling a story

half captured half free
long before the Talkies

before the Lumiere Brothers
their train making havoc

before Chaplin & Marilyn            
before The Matrix

a man with a beard
swinging a pickaxe

splitting the air
in the world above

cutting a shape
into Silicon Valley.