piyp day

piyp day
Poem In Your Pocket Day

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

C.D. Wright x 2



Lake Echo, Dear

Is the woman in the pool of light   
really reading or just staring   
at what is written

Is the man walking in the soft rain   
naked or is it the rain   
that makes his shirt transparent

The boy in the iron cot   
is he asleep or still
fingering the springs underneath

Did you honestly believe   
three lives could be complete

The bottle of green liquid   
on the sill is it real

The bottle on the peeling sill   
is it filled with green

Or is the liquid an illusion   
of fullness

How summer’s children turn   
into fish and rain softens men

How the elements of summer
nights bid us to get down with each other   
on the unplaned floor

And this feels painfully beautiful   
whether or not
it will change the world one drop

   ***
 

Personals

Some nights I sleep with my dress on. My teeth
are small and even. I don't get headaches.
Since 1971 or before, I have hunted a bench
where I could eat my pimento cheese in peace.
If this were Tennessee and across that river, Arkansas,
I'd meet you in West Memphis tonight. We could
have a big time. Danger, shoulder soft.
Do not lie or lean on me. I'm still trying to find a job
for which a simple machine isn't better suited.
I've seen people die of money. Look at Admiral Benbow. I wish
like certain fishes, we came equipped with light organs.
Which reminds me of a little known fact:
if we were going the speed of light, this dome
would be shrinking while we were gaining weight.
Isn't the road crooked and steep.
In this humidity, I make repairs by night. I'm not one
among millions who saw Monroe's face
in the moon. I go blank looking at that face.
If I could afford it I'd live in hotels. I won awards
in spelling and the Australian crawl. Long long ago.
Grandmother married a man named Ivan. The men called him
Eve. Stranger, to tell the truth, in dog years I am up there.

C.D. Wright

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