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Archive for June 20th, 2023

The Waste Ferry

Sights of minnow, despair
Fish dream to nonaction
The rudderless course of a ship
Its hull beating against a manless dock

Upended cups on bollards
Cranky pier beams
And glinty eyed gulls
Are harbinger of somebody’s breakfast

Mere muff grazers
Spill onto the dock
Warning of a fatuous Sunday
Afternoon
When the boat will be full
But not full of anybody
Willing to say what needs to be said

One thought is embarrassed to death
In a throat
Because the men want what they want
And you will have what you have

Late in the day
Jackson lost on the beam
One thought parts
Into milk and cream

Your eyes too full of pain and fear
You couldn’t tell me the truth right then
Not about anything
Not right here

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Siesta

The farmers move inland,
Brushing their scythes
away forever from the cool crests of wheat

Before siesta

When old men and little boys
alike
Come to sleep in a chain
of hands

Here they rest in rough dirt
made soft
By the bodies of young girls

Here they float over cankers in the Earth
Old salt furrows that can no longer
be farmed

Holes with no sympathy

Slumber is not measured here
in pounds
But in inches:

Rain hurts the mud wall
Unleashes dirt from the grooves
While a yeast goes to work on its millet

Otherwise, the whole world
is asleep
or dying

Across the handle of a rake

–1994

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