poetry – This Verse

Soul Fever

He said he had a soul fever
and I wondered:
is that anything like
influenza in the brain
when we just can't think
can't hope any more?
But he said, no
this is a very special thing
it will burn away everything
until you, too, are fire

Delirium

By definition temporary
unlike the long slow march
to the sea of forgetfulness

I will take that journey, too

but today I am out of my right mind
from lack of water, loss of sleep
and too long without you

China

I bought this fragile China
a day I felt brittle
so milky and translucent
you could see through us both

For months now I have traced
my fingers along thin edges
held each piece carefully
in fear of breaking

I brought this home
to start new without you
now this, too, belongs
to another delicate time

Resting Place

Bury me next to my son, he said
and I saw the whole gaping wound of it:
to be so far for so long
from what we imagine might be home

Willow

This willow weeping
reaching for dark earth, rich soil
promise of deep life

Dealer

The magic, of course
lies in the miniscule
I need only taste you
once

Flight

Take me home tonight
great silver bird wings above
a sea's gray embrace

Logical Consequences

Consequences, logical
of misplaced affection:
this trembling sadness
and hopes dissapointed
The reason I wield
to tell myself I knew better
now only so much bitter balm

Shanghai Aphrodite

Rose wet-dripping from the Huangpu
light step upon the skiff, the barge
and now dark shadows mark
where each foot kissed stone

Lovely

I think you lovely
and twirl this curiosity
between stiff fingers

In another time it is myself
I would have twisted
to win your love