March 2015
Before I drag myself into work every morning, I sit in my car in parking lots—the only public places left that don't come with a soundtrack--and read poetry. Currently, I'm into Merrill Gilfillan, Steve Scafidi, Tom Clark and Tom Hennen. My new book of poems is Appalachian Night. It is available from me at no cost: just email chineseplums@gmail.com.
How to be a Day Laborer
Smoke lonely and delicious
cigarettes in the moon-
cratered parking lot.
Hop in the truck to prune
a maple in the graceful
rhythms of a man
who has something to do.
Do it well. Hoist
a leafy branch filled
with April light and bear it
in the blue day
like a green torch.
Birthday
She spies her snowy hair
in the rear view mirror. Someday she will be old
as an unborn child.
From a Darkened Room
there is nothing
I must do
a voice floats by
like steam
from tea hot bath
I shiver
petal on the path
Three Years with HIV
Tom,
in April cold
a goose ascends
the road,
sticking out
his slender
neck for everyone.
Gerald Stern
No one but the bee,
and maybe not even him,
knows where he is going
as he zips, loops,
pauses to catch his breath.
Bees breathe, yes?
Imagine how small that is.
Close your eyes.
The poem can wait.
G e r a l d S t e r n
Credits:'Gerald Stern' first appeared in Your Impossible Voice; 'Darkened Room' first appeared in Lilliput Review
©2015 Mark Jackley