Category: Tanka
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Day 8
august thunderstorm tumbles along the pavement, whips city trees, casts spells on each hidden thing – even jealous river, birth bath
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Day 7, On cleaning out my father’s house
How it is that it comes to this — that all that matters is clean, deathly clean? And yet we still move forward. I strip you clean of everything that belongs to you, and peel and scrape until all your bones lay bare to the bold sun and in turn I bring home boxes of…
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Day 6
Here we are again — you settled under light me lost in deep dark. I find your eyes cast down, having rested all season.
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Day 5
after a long day of pitched battles on every side I hunger to be in heaven sitting down on the right side of no one
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Day 4
let us begin here, at the temple of helplessness, to grieve proper the angels caught unawares, before awareness even
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Day 3
trucks on the freeway, flat land stretched out beyond i find myself looking out a window between my world and yours
Poems from in between 