 |
| jo'b |
Late in the thicket of the soul,
where it was slow-going,
overgrown with the brambles and vines
of common catastrophe,
he accepted at last
the hard-earned conclusion
that he lacked the courage
to embrace what he thought
he'd always wanted—
unconditional love,
that uncommon thing—
powerful,
wounding,
and misplaced.
 |
| jo'b |
Haven't stood in the sea since before COVID,
but I visit often, I can be there anytime I want
when a southerly wind is sighing in the oaks,
I just close my eyes and listen, I just close my eyes
and hear the rush and wash of the surf at my feet,
I just close my eyes and feel the cold ocean
and the sand between my toes, I just close my eyes
and see the band of Venus over the edge of the earth,
I just close my eyes and feel the salt spray on my cheek
and the sunset on my back, I just close my eyes,
and I sense the warmth and the breath
of the absent souls
that make my heart ache for the sea.
 |
| jo'b |
 |
| jo'b |
Dew-strung and crowned with dawn
no one could find us
in the goldenrod field
as we had wished,
listening to the bees
chanting as they worked,
our pantlegs tucked into our socks
sprayed with Permethrin
against the stark truths of the world.
 |
| jo'b |
Grass mowed,
I fell asleep
in a chair by the well
and awoke with the sky in my eyes,
realizing as if for the first time
I'd never see her again—
one moment we were discussing
Yeats and elderberries, and the next
I was alone on a dirt road
in a nest of modified illusions,
facing the savage god of the future—
but it was only the FedEx driver
pounding down the road,
raising yellow dust.
 |
| jo'b |
to have night
in one's body.
It is hurtful
to be right.
—Robinson Jeffers was right.
