Everyday Life

7/5/04

riding in the dark

with all the city

expanding around me

the lap of the waves on the seawall

the wind rustling the leaves

my motion through the dark

a wild vertigo

starting at the base

of my spine

3/29/04

the body
finds bruised
sleep against
wooden floorboards.

every now and then
a choreography about
a man trying
but failing
to escape the wide grip
of gravity

6/1/04

moving away
will be the best possible
remedy
for a heart,
a mind,
a body
growing stagnant between
childhood walls

8/20/04

I want to capture
all the motion
used in making tea:

so, begin with lifting
the pot, tilting it to feel

how much water
I must add

8/21/04

remove the lid:
grasp the handle,
begin to exert a pulling force,
and then the lid
(this depends on the pot, of course)
pops
slides
lifts
jerks free

8/23/04

tug, twist, pull, lift the faucet–
water pours into the kettle.
the arm fills to the elbow with
water, weight

9/22/04

these
simple
exercises
at the end of each day–

they
somehow
help
me
fit

more

comfortably

inside this skin
this sad body
this whirling brain

10/6/04

pour,
and the
arm empties out again.

the mug
exhales a ghost
of steam above

its shimmering
liquid eye.

as the steam
clears,
and the liquid
is stirred,
the eye
darkens.