Insomnia

 

Disparate expectancies. Misalliances between
complacency and misery and doubt. Surely
something soon will ream them out –
release you from their demons and upend
their scheme. Then you can resume the dream.












.

Our Mysteries

 

Oracles and angels are bewilderments.

Surely we can’t know what they can.

But are we right? Let’s look past

the bluster. Every woman and each man

has psychic luster. We’ve all got

something like clairvoyant sight.

I look into your eyes at noon: they’re full

of night. You know more and I know more

than either one of us will say.

Our mysteries bewitch the day.











.

Meteorological Prognosis

 

Systems of a season-less
humidity convene like spies
inside the hollows

of a bright Manhattan sun –

clouds of happy apprehension
rig suspension of the day

the Weather Channel told you

might be fair. It won’t be fair.
It’s never fair.

Beatrix Potter Springs

are rare in New York City:
plan for chilly March or sodden

mid-July. That’s a meteorological

prognosis upon which you
may decide, in May,

you might rely.

Except for when you can’t.
Evidence is scant.









.

Moment of a Breath

 

Dispassionate, affectionate:
safely miles away –
there’s nothing really
very much to say.

To hold it in your arms

suffices: a gentler sentience –
inward – warmer:
murmured tensions

are released. A ceiling

reached, a feeling caught –
marks the moment
of a breath of thought.










.

Surface and Substance

 

The surface is

the substance

and the substance

is the surface

and the whole

shebang’s

been lighted

and will melt.

That doesn’t mean

it isn’t deeply felt.











.

On Finding Words One Isn’t Sure of in Henry James

 

Procrustean
titivations! Hem
them up! Shun
runs of them.

Play them on

the flugel-
horn. Look
them up in Google.












.

Today somebody asked you what you do.

 

You said that you
pursue a daily strategy
of forming intimate

relationships with

strangers. You lure
and bait them. You didn’t

add that you create them –

because that would
have been a lie.

Look! – they have arrived

again: fluent with their
private sea, fluid

with inconstancy.

They take their places
on your shore. Again,

you’ll give them what

you’ve got, though
they’ll want more.









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