24
february 04
peeling away
the film
from our envelopes
of self
doffing
the layers of words,
the panels of clothing,
the mackinaw capote of history
in turn,
discerning
your blankets of sound,
tiers of motion,
stratum of love
my mantles
of breath,
laminas of scent,
guises of tough
unfolding,
this inward-outward origami
burgeoning,
layer and layer,
effloresce,
revealed and out.
*
* *
15
february 04
this
empty vessel,
in front of the crowd,
teetering on edge
the catfish and the eels
eyeing
for leftovers
i have no
more,
nothing
avoiding
the word lost,
i step in the most
awkward
forward motion
|
06
february 04
this winter:
it snows
here,
lakes freeze,
i drive on ice.
i sit in
the hot
bath tub,
drink beer,
read about glaciers
in alaska.
the only
snowshoe
that fits
isn't my size.
i write in
six different
notebooks,
crude scribbling
about a catch in breath,
that trapped sigh.
murmured
colors that suit
glazed looks,
braided,
intertwining ideas
passes time.
the world
is blue;
underfoot crunches.
i chew on
the long day,
muse on movement,
observe tides.
this is
the universe-accordion.
this is
the color book of life.
this is
where i slumber,
trudging snow,
restlessly, by moon
in the night. |
Jodi
Anderson