[Après] Après.
The storm went through
high winds last night
light rain
The biggest surprise
when I opened the blinds
Bare branches
against cloud
brilliant yellow glow
against deep blue
*
Biting
Life I haven’t been able
to write But there is
work and all the other
aspects daily
damned Since moving
across that strange
and arbitrary border,
I’ve tried
affected by the fact
of being American
I doubt that you can
really know unless you’ve
lived elsewhere
for a significant period
of time
Staying out of it
is, of course, impossible
But the alternative
would be so much worse
I’m worried about what
may happen, and dismayed
that no matter
I won’t really feel
my deepest desires
where peace is truly
where the natural environment
where the poor and disenfranchised
where every human being
matters, where money
no longer
calls the shots
know that the border
is just a line on a map
*
Evening
Lemon-yellow, white almond
Autumn vines on wrought iron
After the dark, tree-lined streets
Lunettes sleep in glass cases
In a café, a final coffee
the stools already on their backs
bend forward, straighten up
look past terrain privé
Your hip against mine
No need to speak
*a found poem sequence
In response to the cassandra pages: Après, Biting My Nails, Evening Walk.