tonight i call the moon
big yellow
a clipped toe nail
hung slant
the city brights
glow upward
and the clouds are
dense steam
tonight two cats howl
two cats claw
and i hear fur
tearing from flesh
someone punches
a pillow backwards
handfuls of cotton
whisper to the ground
perhaps tomorrow i'll harvest
tomorrow i'll collect
aluminum cans, gather them up
with the clatter of dull bells
tomorrow i'll comb the streets
catch plastic bags in plastic bags
to watch them rattle and flutter
in the city's great heaving lung
2 comments:
Dear Bryce, I really enjoy reading your poetry. Though we have talked about poetry many times, I hadn't read much of your's until I stumbled across your blog. I love that you use such spare language, but even in its spareness there are so many layers. There is a kind of Japanese feeling to some of them...the way you describe scenery and every day events in a way that makes them seem wonderfully profound. So fresh. mad luv.
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