A Bald State
Standing in an empty intersection, a cracked heart in his hands, arms heavy with exhaustion, and no
place to set it down.
A Bald Statement
I sabotaged my life for you. Lit matches under lovers and watched them curl in flame. I even ignited
versions of myself in front of you. You sent back the ashes, stirred, in a used cardboard box, from which
you lifted your shoes and walked away.
A Bald Statement Uttered
Thanks a lot, pal.
Standing in an empty intersection, a cracked heart in his hands, arms heavy with exhaustion, and no
place to set it down.
A Bald Statement
I sabotaged my life for you. Lit matches under lovers and watched them curl in flame. I even ignited
versions of myself in front of you. You sent back the ashes, stirred, in a used cardboard box, from which
you lifted your shoes and walked away.
A Bald Statement Uttered
Thanks a lot, pal.
New Year's Day
I've got to forty-five without knowing
my blood
type; I've already waited
too long
and now my hope is gone.
I know you don't drink but I know you know
impulse to
I know you know life is desperate
measure, I know
you.
Under the canopy wet crack as we pad
along treebones in the sizzle of rain in the needles.
In the casual surgery of conversation
we glimpse some truth in what remains
unspoken.
The trail winds and the damp flesh underfoot
seems familiar, the way with words once
more assess the damage
to my heart. Somewhere just out of sight
a deer.
I drink to you and your love
Tonight in my room alone.
My blood
Pounding through my heart in this
Tightening chest.
I've got to forty-five without knowing
my blood
type; I've already waited
too long
and now my hope is gone.
I know you don't drink but I know you know
impulse to
I know you know life is desperate
measure, I know
you.
Under the canopy wet crack as we pad
along treebones in the sizzle of rain in the needles.
In the casual surgery of conversation
we glimpse some truth in what remains
unspoken.
The trail winds and the damp flesh underfoot
seems familiar, the way with words once
more assess the damage
to my heart. Somewhere just out of sight
a deer.
I drink to you and your love
Tonight in my room alone.
My blood
Pounding through my heart in this
Tightening chest.
* * *
codify and move on. Relief
just a drink
away, or so.
Slink out
or don't resist
the consequences.
Am I left to examine
the edge of heart attack
or is this some faux indication
that this work moving the eyes
is no different than closing
them within.
A portion of me has broken
off and floats
away I can't
remember it but only that
it was and now is gone. I codify
and move on.
codify and move on. Relief
just a drink
away, or so.
Slink out
or don't resist
the consequences.
Am I left to examine
the edge of heart attack
or is this some faux indication
that this work moving the eyes
is no different than closing
them within.
A portion of me has broken
off and floats
away I can't
remember it but only that
it was and now is gone. I codify
and move on.
* * *
We substitute frequency
for the long-lasting busi-ness
and generate in absence an intense
mythology of particulars and tall tales
I haven't had to think
about you in a long time
but when I do it's with a longing
for someone I don't even know
Everyone assumes the others are lost
in the same maze as themselves
and when it opens and each one
drops into the spinning dark it will not matter
the planet shrieks into the dark much as
the dying man hallucinates he is not alone
Joseph Mockus is a San Francisco Bay Area criminal defense attorney; rock 'n roll drummer; husband, dad and, one of
our favorite poets. His work has been published in numerous literary journals. He studied Literature at U.C. Berkeley.
We substitute frequency
for the long-lasting busi-ness
and generate in absence an intense
mythology of particulars and tall tales
I haven't had to think
about you in a long time
but when I do it's with a longing
for someone I don't even know
Everyone assumes the others are lost
in the same maze as themselves
and when it opens and each one
drops into the spinning dark it will not matter
the planet shrieks into the dark much as
the dying man hallucinates he is not alone
Joseph Mockus is a San Francisco Bay Area criminal defense attorney; rock 'n roll drummer; husband, dad and, one of
our favorite poets. His work has been published in numerous literary journals. He studied Literature at U.C. Berkeley.
| R-KV-R-Y POETRY WINTER 2006 |