Sunday, April 19, 2009

2/3 of the way done tomorrow

han shan

lawnmower clicks
the sidewalk throws up
pollen like the last dying blood
and breath gasping from purple lips
slices of gut
little chunks of blood
from the new grey green grass
and the first day of spring

my brother thuds a basketball
against new concrete lazy
gum hangs from his mouth and flakes
skin cells off his hardened head
and blood slips out of his kneecaps
waits for him to realize the shavings
white skin clinging limp then falling
like ripe dead landmines from a sweetgum tree

i sit on white sidewalk in sunlight
glimmering like beach sand or watch faces
poking my eyes with needles distracting
my reading leaving me mouthing
ancient words translated from pictures
carved deep into mountains and rocks and tree
shivering from the hands of an old hermit
on a river soaked mountain
ice water inside
old flesh wounds underfoot

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