But even with the day OFF
(shades down, light switched)
the mirror has to do someting with all its energy.
It chooses you. Red Rover Red Rover.
from "A Third Source of Unnecessary Tension"
A little error: fine
A little accomplishment: better.
I stood aside and watched my mood.
The poem rippled past.
opening of "The Variant for This Is Silence"
All day the day snows down around
each of us separately.
No, the day's debris--
end of "Cabin Fever in the Gray World"
Our new weather makes me regret a thing or two,
that's for sure.
When I leave, I always say thank you
whether I mean it or not.
end of "Crank It Up"
Sorrow, for instance, which had held her in a sling,
a gauzy numbness where she kicked her legs in sleep.
end of "What Happened Next"
As though they had argued, earlier,
or she had remembered she was separate:
These are my hands. I end here.
The space they loved made a cruel sound.
Of course her large sadness had opened,
all the furred animals shifting
in the little boat of sleep.
first half of "Snarl"
You know: first the light and then the hurt
and then the new shoots and how the deer love it.
last stanza of "A Thought, For Example, Is a Form"
The thing is you can't see the cigarette fragments
on the postcard reproduction I bought.
Pollock never stood over this little rectangle.
On the back in boldface: his name and the bar code:
4 0010 39478 4.
The scanner is red-mouthed, tight-lipped.
I owe 35 cents.
By all accounts, this is a good deal,
especially when the universe may, in fact, be a loose bag,
a skin folding back on itself.
You just don't know.
I choose a white loop in Pollock's Number 3, 1949: Tiger.
I go as far as I can.
last third of "Terminal"
In the UK, you can buy Purr through Foyle's Marketplace.