Wednesday, 06.28:
Deborah Digges: “I thought I could grow old in this house.”
Thursday, 06.29:
I am made stupid by chemistry.
title: Questions for God.
[postcard to RB: Historic covered bridge, West Arlington, Vermont]
today I am wearing your white shirt
and wish you were here to peel it
slowly off me.
We are having continual weather.
My itch is bearable but I want
scratching.
Catch me if you can.
Friday, 06.30:
Does the acceptance of the powerlessness of language to stop time create/ allow another kind of power for the poet?
bare. cornea. they asked for your corneas.
it was all that hadn’t been touched by your blood.
the rescue worker surfacing with
a child–his wild, urgent eyes–
the woman had thrown her four children
from the bridge before leaping herself . . .
“It has taken all my strength to do this.”
“past believing that love will heal what language fails to know . . .”
his body knows what it must do
he is lifting away from it
Rich: “It will not be simple.”
Reads in the Trees 