for here there is no place that does not see you

Many elements in my microcosmic corner of the universe have aligned such that the past 72 hours of my life have been a splendid pause of poetic experience. A pause because the heat of midwestern July and the lack of paid occupation allow for a comfortable lethargy, a slow motion of a still scene. Continue reading “for here there is no place that does not see you”

Firs

The afternoon of our desire,
the cat napping in the barn,
the carnival tears of merriment and
the mess of dreams in mornings
when things came to mind—this
density of living among the dead kept
flowers in our mouths after
each mean and powerful rain.
You were not like the others—you
stood there facing the wood like
nothing fell around you. There was
the backside of your body,
the haze around your head,
and your terrible calm amid
whatever braved a movement. In
any phase of five minutes you’d
steal the galaxies, take them
under your gaze, and you were
shameless as a voyeur,
ruthless as a pioneer.

–dkp

Revolution

Formidable you
Roaming, falling, burning,
Dying as you live and
Desperate

Stand tall in the frame of
my door
and the blue of your eyes
Fools me
like the space of the skies

Frames vanish
hollows fill
and I’ve never gazed so long into what I cannot touch
and I’ve never held so near what blinded me.

But night falls
like burning stars
and eyes close
like turning doors.

–dkp