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BY Michael

04/01 Direct Link
It is
locked in these words
where I put it, carefully
hidden behind the tall serifs.
It is
ground into the dark earth,
covered with leaves,
wedged between the thick roots
of sweet trees.
It is
found in a fountain
wet and puddled,
lost in a parade
caught up beneath a float,
hidden downstairs
where it had been stored in your basement.
It is lost in memory
with the rest of us.
We are all living in memory.
Without it we are bits of now
stumbling ahead
as real as anything
but without any
staying power.
It is
We is.
04/02 Direct Link
It is
consigned to the basement,
tucked neatly beneath the stairs,
strong clean pine planks
angled down from the floor above.
It is there
wrapped in newsprint,
the edges carefully tucked in.
It is confined there
held together by brown twine,
a package flat,
leaning against the rough wall with maybe
a dozen others.
Picture frame size and shape
and I wonder what is
in this particular picture,
what joy it contained to cause it to be
wrapped and padded so carefully
and then placed down there in the dark
and not up here
on a wall
in the light.
04/03 Direct Link
The sun flares
Wildly into my eyes.

The whirligig slowly rights itself on axis.
The cradle rocks.
The stars begin to flow.

I am thinking of all the places I have ever been,
of all the places I have lived,
of some places I have only dreamt.

It is true that
Man is independent of place and time.

Wherever you go,
There you are.
There you have always been.

Unless you have grown so jaded of living
That it no longer holds possibility
of joy.
As human beings we are not allowed to let that happen. Itís in the rules.
04/04 Direct Link
I had thought I would do a dozen things today but I knew I was setting myself up for failure, so I limited myself to one goal: to install the new garbage disposal. I carefully crawled beneath the sink and disconnected the old one. Then I began to wrench the collar to drop the old disposal from the sink. It was frozen solid. Rust possibly even. I looked at it closely and it was a brand I had never heard of before. There was no help for it but to call a plumber, someone with more experience and better ideas.
04/05 Direct Link
After the garbage disposal failure I felt uninspired so I decided to do something safe. I would set up my amplifier in the new cabinet. Then I would add my networked music system. The amplifier required moving a shelf, and then I gave up and put it on top of the cabinet. Then the music server would not connect. It seems that when I had added the range extender I had put the logical server on the wrong side of a router. I could not work on the computer and run the music server on it too. I am tired.
04/06 Direct Link
In the evening I drop
like a spider into my cockpit
Hands hovering over the crystals
dials, and levers
I am already moving out
out of the dark port and into
a land of quiet dreams.

I am confused as to whether
this is about sleep or some
nervous kind of thing.
well yes I am nervous about this
thing.
I am at a loss for throwing away my
home and everything in it.

This unknown ship moves through
moonlit waters with barely a ripple

you know the destination
it is the nature of the trip that is the mystery
04/07 Direct Link
In the evening I drop
like a spider into my cockpit
Hands hovering over the crystals
dials, and levers,
I am already moving
out of the dark port and into
a land of quiet dreams.

I am confused as to whether
this is about sleep or some other
nervous kind of thing.

This unknown ship moves through
moonlit waters with barely a ripple
You can smell the tar on the timbers
the rats on the line.

You have lawless imagination
and something is on your mind.
Perhaps if you let the wind blow
through the sails
something will shake out.
04/08 Direct Link
In the evening I drop
like a spider into my cockpit
Hands hovering over the crystals
dials, and levers,
I am already moving
the last ship off the coast,
out of the dusky port and into
a land of quiet dreams.

It is perhaps a ship of ghosts,
moving through
moonlit waters with barely a ripple.
you can smell the tar on the timbers
the rats on the line.

You have lawless imagination
and something on your mind.

There is a reflection
in dark water over the side

A sense of continued movement
long after the operator stops the ride.
04/09 Direct Link
In the evening I drop
like a spider into my cockpit
Hands hovering over the crystals,
levers and dials,
already moving
onto a different ledger and into
a land of pillowed dreams.

You know it is cold out there
the night kissing your skin
Stars are scattered like dust
on a forgotten sill
and you move through
moonlit liquid with
barely a ripple,
sliding silently past a
satin mountain.

You have lawless imagination
and something on your mind. There is a reflection
in the stardust on your side

A sense of continued movement
long after the operator stops the ride.
04/10 Direct Link
You have moved your plants out on the deck,
ejecting them
perhaps to make more room for me
and I don't really know

if i will be responsible for the death
of these plants when the next killing frost hits
as it surely must since it is not quite April.

I am feeling off balance
just a bit as I am often likely to
and I am unsure whether to call your attention to this
or to just swallow it,
just write it up,
just write it down,
to just thread myself through it because it always
always goes away.
04/11 Direct Link
There are so many things that either are
or are not
and their true weight always
seems to lie
somewhere in between the two.
I do not know what to say here
I do not know what to say.
You see, I might have to pee.
I might not have to and I believe
it is just another signal that I am
getting to be an old soul.
I am never quite sure when it is I want or do not want to pee
unless I really want to pee and in this case it may be too late sometimes.
04/12 Direct Link
We have come together quickly.
You mention that I have not written you a poem yet.
I have; I am.
Today I am writing fiercely.
You see since we met I have not
done any writing at all.
The world has been so
voracious, greedily
eating our time like a bull dozer munching dirt,
cutting through it and ripping the sod off
rolling it up like some carpet.
You mention that I have not written you a poem yet
while we are every day knitting a poem together
piece by piece as we draw our lives one into the other.
04/13 Direct Link
Hell yes I am scared.
but it is always
hard for me you see
to determine whether I am afraid of something or
whether I am just being
afraid in general
because another one of those storms
is blowing through my mind.
another storm
another wave in the brain.

Oh for god's sake yes another damn storm
passing over my mind and
yes, it will go away
and yes, it will come again today
and yes, I hate them hate them
and I wonder what kinds of weather caresses your eyes.
They seem so clear so much of the time
04/14 Direct Link
It is a real fear that you
will grow weary of my storms,
grow weary of my drama
because it sometimes seems that way:
drama,
even though I am living in the middle of it and
cannot lift it away.
I would lift it away if I could just as I would lift away my questionable left knee,
left hip,
the left elbow,
and the scratch on the driver's door of my car.
These are little imperfections in life that we must live with just as life itself is engineered with things that are not quite so nice, so friendly.
04/15 Direct Link
I am thinking you may receive this or part of this a kind of state of the husband report. I am reporting it out, throwing it to light and letting you know, not knowing myself how it will be received hoping it is received in the same iloveyou spirit with which it is sent. This is me muddy feet and all This is me chocolate around my mouth and all and all. I take a drink of coffee and I choke I cough and splutter I love the taste of the coffee I love the warmth flowing into my body.
04/16 Direct Link
I love drinking coffee, love the weight of the warm mug even if it makes me think that maybe I have to pee and that in turn reminds me that I am growing old, that I have a date with death waiting for me as surely as the clock will strike midnight tonight. And I am aware that when I get there all this will seem as if it were but a few minutes time. Whatever happiness we have gleaned together will be held fast there in the eyes of the survivor. Which do you want to be, my love?
04/17 Direct Link
Do you prefer being the survivor or the one who
goes first?
The survivor then has to be alone,
has to experience the loss of the other and
I suspect
that by the time we reach that point
the loss will be great
that it will be felt keenly leaving someone
throwing things up against
the wall in anger and I say that
because much to my own surprise that is how I reacted
the last time a friend of mine died.
I had no idea it would affect me so profoundly but it did and it left me angry.
04/18 Direct Link
You have asked me in some way
to write a poem.
Your presence requires one.
You probably understand
that it can take years
that I have some poems
decades in the writing
and many that will never be finished.
Oh my love it takes time to write a poem
and a poem such as the one you want is very difficult.
It is like a crystal vase
and this is a lump of coal.
Yet this is what you will get,
for the first shot and you will have no doubt
that this was written
with me thinking of you.
04/19 Direct Link
It is Sunday morning. My glasses are dirty so that I cannot quite tell whether the smudges around the edges of the world are real or surreal. But what kind of person would write in such an irresponsible way? But it is Sunday and it is perhaps 48 degrees outside. You have suggested we blow off church and go to my favorite park for a walk. Again my vision is smudgy. I cannot tell whether you are suggesting this because I have admitted I go to church to please you or whether you indeed don't want to go today yourself.
04/20 Direct Link
We create new
wobbly thoughts.
Some are not so bad as others
and we sail through life
dodging this or that
kind of thought
when we can,
other times
cleaving straight through
feeling the slap of the raw meat
against the face and then
the wet blood cooling
stretching the skin
and the sun, oh look
the sun is coming out from
behind the clouds
and we continue moving
riding a carousel horse
one having gotten loose and racing
straight across the fields
running away from the fair
feeling the pound of dirt against hooves
air sluicing through your mane.
04/21 Direct Link
I think it used to be
convention to put a double-space
after a sentence.
That thinking seems to have changed
in my word processor
to a single space.

It is a small thing I suppose,
the single-space being even smaller
than other things I can shove
from my mind.

Now my head grows heavy,
wanting to find the back of my chair.
When I close my eyes the lids are hot
and heavy.

I type, eyes closed,
finding the idea:
typing in the dark.
I am not even translating
in my head,
just hearing words
flow out of my fingers.
04/22 Direct Link
My eyes are tired
refusing to focus
and I rest my head turning
to look at the folded Tiki umbrella
now shrouded in flying snow.
The wind would be slicing
through my coat were I outside.

I think soon we are scheduled to go there
out into this cold and I am feeling
some apprehension at this wondering in an overlaying thought
what this apprehension is about
whether it is something that
I should change my plans for.

But I know
apprehension is a part of me
and
I watch you dancing
and I think I could be with you.
04/23 Direct Link
I see the staircase reflected in the oversized clock pendulum. This staircase opens into a corner of the room. It is tucked out of the way, not opening into the middle of things the way the staircase did at the house on Christine. It leads up to my study, yet I stay down here. Perhaps it is because you are here. Or perhaps it is because my chair is here. I used to stay with the chair on Christine too. As I think about this I realize my father too stays with his chair. Moving the chair moves the man.
04/24 Direct Link
You back out the door wall with your arms full of birdseed. "Feed the critter time," you declare, leaning against the weight of the door. You are out and back in a minute, your legs slapping against the hem of your robe. The critters will eat well today, out in the misty Saturday morning. To the critters, though, the Saturday is no different from any other day. What difference do they see other than day and night; sun and snow? It is given to us to understand other more bothersome things. What then must weigh on the mind of god?
04/25 Direct Link
It is the Blue Tooth. It simply does not work well. It misbehaves differently at different times. Today it drops out every time I make a keystroke. If I sit with my hands folded at my chest, not touching the keyboard, it works fine. I assume there must be some hardware conflict between it and the keyboard, or perhaps some finite shared resource. This makes it sound like I know what I am talking about, but I do not. I know no more than those who say atoms are composed of other particles or that the earth circles the sun.
04/26 Direct Link
You have moved your plants out on the deck,
ejecting them
perhaps to make more room for me
and I don't really know

if I will be responsible for the death
of these plants when the next killing frost hits
as it surely must since it is not quite May.

I am feeling off balance
just a bit as I am often likely to do,
and I am unsure whether to call your attention to this
or to swallow it,
just write it up,
just write it down,
to just thread myself through it because it always,
always goes away.
04/27 Direct Link
There are so many things that either are
or are not
and their true weight always
seems to lie
somewhere in between.
I don't know what to say here
I don't know what to say.
You see, I might have to pee.
I might not have to and I believe
it is just another signal that I am
getting to be an old soul.
I am never quite sure when it is I want
or do not want to pee.

We have come together quickly.
Your presence requires a poem.
I am writing one,
have been for some time now.
04/28 Direct Link
Today I am writing fiercely.

The world has been so
voracious, greedily
eating our time
while we are every day
knitting a poem together
piece by piece as we draw our lives
one into the other.

Hell yes I am scared.
But it is always hard for me
to determine whether
I am afraid of something or whether another one of those storms
is blowing through my mind.
Another storm
another wave in the brain.

Oh for god's sake yes another damn storm
passing over my mind and
yes, it will go away
and yes, it will come again today
04/29 Direct Link
I wonder what kinds of weather caresses your eyes
They seem so clear so much of the time

It is a real fear that you
will grow weary of my storms,
grow weary of my drama
because it sometimes seems that way:
drama,
even though I am living in the middle of it and
cannot lift it away.
I would lift it away if I could just as I would lift away my questionable left knee,
left hip,
the left elbow,
and the scratch on the left side of my car.
These are little imperfections that we must live with.
04/30 Direct Link
Life is engineered with things that are not quite
so nice, so friendly.

and I could number them here
but it would not be so nice as
we stepped around them.

I am thinking you may receive this
or a part,
a kind
of state of the husband report.

I am reporting it out,
throwing it to light and
letting you know,
not knowing myself how it will be received
hoping it is received in the same iloveyou
spirit with which it is sent.
This is me
muddy feet and all
This is me
chocolate around my mouth
and all.