I SEE YOU FRIEND
The windows of the train are open
I took a walk around myself.
It rides through a station full of smoke,
I took a walk around myself.
Frozen missionaries hold out their flyers,
Almost falling over.
Lady next to me hums a melody, like a lullaby,
While on the phone.
Or maybe she just practices karaoke.
The train sways like an ocean
I see you friend, from the train.
I get off.
ODE TO MY USUAL MISTAKES
A monster, an error
a lauded failure,
you stand tall over me
with your failing heart
cracked skin.
A monster, an error,
a lauded failure,
dreamed up by a man
blinded by arrogance
as old then, as you are now.
One leg, three feet
one head with many eye.
It just needs a small push
to get going.
Oh silver ball of wonder
How I loathe your icy form.
I’d poke all
Of your Argos eyes out.
‘Oh raise your arms in praise
Oh widen your eyes in wonder’
the peacock laughs.
They float in copper veins
The move in membranes
They fill the shelves with dust
They nail the windows shut.
400 or more deadly figures
400 or more dead figures.
SIGHISOARA
There’s this beautiful cemetery
at the top of the fortress
of Sighișoara,
where the graves trickle down the hillside
like road posts.
Langos on a bench,
ice cream.
We bought a ceramic spoon holder
painted with blue flowers,
a flower necklace and bracelet for you,
and for Anita, just a bracelet.
You hated the entire trip, Magda,
you were all teeth.
MAGPIE
I saw five magpies, first there were three
Then another, and another.
The bell strikes three times, 10 minutes early.
I wish it hadn’t stopped raining.
A WORD IS A WORD IS A WORD
Magdalena took a Romanian book
with her to Kita today.
She put it in the belly
of her seal shaped rucksack
and zipped it up.
She carried it all day.
AH
I see the waves
on the back of my eyelids,
a thin mist of clouds.
I see myself in your back, old man,
I hear your jokes.
Ah, I miss the sea.
VICO EQUENSE
Hairpin turns
Slope
Two busses pass each other
Cheek to cheek to
Fig tree to cliff.
I reach my arm out the window
To high five the fig tree.
Let’s walk back up
Hand in hand
When we return.
YELLOW
A young Gingko tree
by the side of the road,
literally burning my eyes
with his autumn yellow.
And he only has half of his crown
left.