old poems

he argues, beauty

is the purpose of all things

a condom wrapper

behind the travel agency

it matters, or does it,

the vagaries of words

in things that represent

instead of are

when sustained by need

or sustained by lack

we are like smoke,

changing shape

a mortal argument

that refuses to heal

a simple form emerges,

beyond the new

the bullet pushing into,

& the slow thin finger

that fires

reasons for underground

(for colin morton

because the rain is far harder than i would

have expected

because some things arent dependant on faith

because the phone bill hasnt been paid

in months

because my neighbour cut my cable

because the angels fly w/ broken wings

because the nights below rochester street are long

because the summer is over, before

its even begun

because of what she told me next

because its hard to believe we ever

looked that young

because black coffee & my ulcer

because ten years & even more

because my eyes have begun to dim

& my football injury

because sometimes i forget myself

because ruby red is not

because my daughter has forgotten how to speak

in any language i am learning

because i am not one

Joe Blades’ river

on the bank of the st john river

bliss carmen

you cant step into the same poem

twice

harvest high boats fredericton

view, his small room

seated, moon

a casemate in the wee hours

instruct a breeze

of salt lick

etching “praise” & “healed” on little

but water memory

this is parchment, trees

cormorants

a contour of tall ships

manual typewriter on a table, facing

an open doorway

Rachel Zucker’s working note

mythological tongue & no matter where, where

a burnished tip to arrival

a woman in central park, a woman in relationship,

a woman in childbirth, a woman w/ notebooks,

a woman w/ two boys, a woman in street clothes

saving up never ended

to exhume a truer version of experience,

as god contracts, a narrative love

a critical healing

is frightened

; how is a poem when it is received, a wound

or a fissure that compounds in the telling

an instant so crushed, then

then a beg, through an envelope posted,

stamped,

a location of perfect

a two-storied had dreamed

so few people begin