On this Spot

She came from around the sun in cherry blossom time and paused, here, on this spot , < and found she could not continue blind to the irises and black dots spotting the hawk on its back < ~ their ships were nothing like the science fiction versions more like eyelashes and eyebrows ^ ^…

A Cool Cat’s Spring

City park a bench come Spring passersby doing their thing King slips into Queen being antique clown bums a smoke everybody doing something and those have nothing at all nothing their thing this Spring. Cool cat gesticulated crouch down by the empty reservoir live on social media channel pothole posts and midnight tweets comic flickers…

Sex, Catechism, and Nature

Did He smile to make me? The Tyger knows the answer but waits behind the tree while the smithy pounds the fire to awoke cold eyes. Did He make me to eat, be eaten, or both, the blacksmith beating, the heart now bleating, dressed in cute bows, the smithy now a ceremony? Nature prefers wildernesses,…

Vintage

The only place for this is here, where vintage plumbums inkling at a ridiculous price for what you threw out, paid to have hauled off, to the ground sea. Established then when demur removes memory, and in place restores smell, sound, touch in a space without echoes, and no logos, and especially no pathos. Argument’s…

Notes on “Pure and Faultless Elation Emerging From Hiding”

Pure and Faultless Elation Emerging From Hiding, by Lim Lee Ching, with Drawings by Britta Noresten. Introduction by Neil Murphy and Afterword by Jeremy Fernando. Poems Sequenced by Mary Ann Lim. Layout by Yanyun Chen. Paperback edition first published 2017 by Delere Press, Singapore.   In a December, 2014 interview with Sara Lau for Obscured,…

Seven Days in May Not; or, A New Lord’s Prayer

Our Potus who hides us from sea to lake crisis hollow is your name. Thy Kingdom rots from east evidence storms to trans west fires. Feed us our daily diversions. Forgive us our not tots as we forgive those who abandon us. And lead us not into fees and tolls, but deliver us our lowly…

isit

is it? is it? is it? what time is it? the cricket asks the night notes call a view of space with ornamental lights near like the cat hiss skin rips claws a violet sky saturates maroon the cauliflower cumulus moon this squall passes as does this darkness the outdoor words drift over the river…

The Flags of Our Dispositions

Some talk again about the end of this world but yr rapture might not be his rapture & maybe he’ll be happy as hops to see you go. Kneel, stand, or dodge the show weekend TV questions for the status quo diversion plays reductio ad absurdum the flags of our dispositions. More disposed to please…

Starting with No

Starting out at nine in search of yes watches synched to 21:00 another night problem to hug and home by one. Starting out at no thing was ever what it seemed to be the toilet by the back gate not plant pot nor art. Starting out ending up in the same place it might have been…

Center of Totality

Between you and the solarium this hottest of summer mornings cools a path across the countryside an eye floater moon receding in the salt tide of shrunk space as you wait in your circle rooted in angst for the darkness to dissolve. What old fear draws you here to this perfect sphere, the moon you…

The Beauty of Prayer

The beauty of prayer is anywhere, pewless, without candle or book or holy water. We can pray in a mall or in the stall on our way or off the wall. Even just the wish to pray, Thomas Merton says, is a gift of great grace. Pray at work, pray at play. Thich Nhat Hanh…