This Blue Monk

seems like he’s trying to beat the light this crow struggling to lift black weight against the heat of these cars at intersections

lost in berryman’s sonnets (and who wouldn’t be, impenetrable and marvelous light, like you, whom i think about even & always when you’ve been gone from my unlife thus many years) wondering my nonlove now wandering

lost in berryman’s sonnets (and who wouldn’t be, impenetrable and marvelous light, like you, whom i think about even & always when you’ve been gone from my unlife thus many years) wondering my nonlove now wandering

one hand across another my fingers thin ice cubes against my wrist and now i am awake again blood betraying me racing; this cold bed a crypt beside you

i have been pruned to make me fruitful but for now, my arms feel bare, naked, exposed near dead; sun is coming? rain has arrived; i hear it outside; for now, i wait in the pot where it began

brown moving on brown along the long felled tree lizard runs from me

these days are unsettled into night and you are still more you than ever: distant and unknowing of me beautiful but that’s in pictures sleep disturbs me; i won’t tell you about it: what, are you listening?