You must understand,
long after the talking
ends, some voices
remain and ghost
inside you in layers
like the voices you
remember bleeding
into one another under
the main conversation
on ancient telephones. … More »
Over time it occurs to me
I am building a shed that will burn.
Footer and sill, whatever I do
flames blue and translates to ash.
The nail shrieks as it enters the joist
and streams out, shrieks
and drips a metal tear
from the elemental eye.
What I do not know is here.
I worship wood and the instant.
What is over, I can never finish.
The angel of work is sweat.
And still as I move the brush
many faces look back at me.
The stain vanishing into the…… More »