November 23, 2012

poem 426 of a poem a day for 2012

flicker wax theater

mirror, mirror cry for me  
an incantation of morality
invest my water
salt my bare throat
and my will
for what I hear
for the sirens, whispers and
the requisitions of thunder
for the daughters, trees
sleeves and cycles
for the magicians and
the clouds
for the wind
knowing how
to carry thoughts

steal every act
every part
every knife
time pieces 
hand to hand when
weight-shifting my arrivals
melt-plating my exits
in shiny metal gifts
mark my burials
look past any destination
and mark with a plaque
each thought
that is a different recipe
for more
more hoping
more dreaming
more sifting
more skeletons
more making keys
more sorting
every please me

we all strive
to reach
behind the curtain
where certainty
is thirsted for
where we wish
the blessings be
where we find
homes in gourds
in carriages and contracts
in obligations and take backs
where even the dog ears
of poems and songs
yet to be, call out
the near edges of regard
where our silences
are the ghost mechanics
chancing residence
after residence
just to be
part of something

where every stop
is a pause
every symptom
a slight nod
to waiters
to wings
ready for an order
to be carried out
ready for a soul's debt
to be settled
ready for the scales
to be awash
in movement
and balance
once again
ready for stillness
to be frenzy captured
between blinks
ready to hold one's self
where eyes used to be


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