“What Rings But Can’t Be Answered” by Rebecca Lindenberg

ratbo-sm

You are beautiful as a telephone, colors
of bone, rocket ship, and cocktail lounge—

Hmm, says the neon sign, starting
an unfinishable thought.

Where do we go from here?

I’m a balloon,
each minute you don’t call is a breath
you blow into me.

I want to be the crackers in your soup,
I want to be your brass compass. Oh, mister,
just thinking about you curls the ends of my hair.

The clock tisk-tisks.

Moon, you old spinster, don’t you mock me
with your pockmarks and your slow, slow travels.

Moon, what would you know, cold as cheese?

Hmm. Tisk-tisk.

Behind a far-off door, a thought about me is being formed
out of nothing but light.

And when that phone does ring—

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from “Love, An Index” by Rebecca Lindenberg

Wikipedia Poem, No. 388

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   perfect 
         new 
evening not 
  cracked 
        open in the maté  
        and why? 

   probably it backs into this 
       poem is his 
          catch his poem is 
       safe from couples 
        swallowing will not crack open 
on a pier 
at noon 
in the maté grass

and prepared to toss it back 
in maine i worry that perhaps 
the sitcom couples swallowing leak lemony acid 
all 
over 
my powerful tongue 
    perhaps 
    the maté 
         grass and a blur i know brazilian 
         jiu jitsu i am probably 
safe from couples swallowing 
lemony acid all 
      over my 
perhaps

Wikipedia Poem, No. 356

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lithuanian kenčiu
suffer what arouses
pity arouses pray

or sorrow from the greek
pathos suffer pakanta
grief sorrow from the weak

patience sorrow
from the proto indo
european kwent to suffer

endure source
also of old irish cessaim
i suffer and penthos suffer

endure irish suffering feeling
feeling feeding emotion calamity
literally what befalls one

Dennis Doherty

doherty

Everything
Have I seen you bikini'd?
The air solidifies around the sound
Of your waxed body     A love song 


Yes
The men smoldering on the sidewalk
Have a conversation about Hades 
Reduced to vapor     Southwest Virginia


Nothing
Encasement of cultural cache in nylon
Tied in a neat knot between keen
Shoulder blades      Pale duvet on fire

Wikipedia Poem, No. 329

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“…there are too many supermarkets, with too many cashiers.” Mark Halliday

          passion passion passion passion passion 
      passion 
          passion 
latin a hostile sense
passion passion 
      passion passion passion passion passion passion passion passion passion passion 
    passion passion 
passion 
        passion 
passion passion passion 
passion passion passion passion passion passion 
      passion passion passion passion 
   passion passion passion passion passion passion 
passion passion passion passion 
passion 
         passion passion 
passion passion 
passion 
passion passion passion passion passion 
anti breathes anemos 
  passing passion passion passion passion 
passion passion passion 
passion passion

Wikipedia Poem, No. 302

giambattista3-sm

 

      instinct is 
      even 
      as pale 
 
         and more 
a 
       compact 
history of ideas 
unreason 
up allreading 

   they identially sic exist
you're spoken in rough 
found history what has ambition 
       yet must and may

and later
         bolted to 
submissionships that recur the river 
headline situations 
are a cheap comparison

paculum-spec2-sm

Source:

Wikipedia Poem, No. 271

wiki271

“now and again to lay / one hand on a warm brick // and touch the sun’s ghost / with economical joy,” Adrienne Rich

 

asymmetry kanso the irregular
simplifies in one fluid expressive
tranquil kanso simplifies the circle

a disciplined creative non practice
of calligraphy once used forms
platos perfect objective strength

elegance mind incomplete
and the former a case of character
allowing reason toward brushstroke

why apply sumi-e enclosed in might
the man is born perfect dies perfect

practice of
drawn horses
encase the brush

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Source:

  • Rich, Adrienne. “Necessities of Life.” Collected Poems: 1950-2012. , 2016. Print. Page 167.

Wikipedia Poem, No. 268

Wiki268

“So the first dignity, it turns out, is to get the spelling right. ” Robert Hass

 

walk south west becoming-man
walk north east colombian teen
stretched overhead not yet static

from under a baby blue polo
a slingshot no the sky what
is he looking for the divine

not yet hands scrape static
from under a baby blue sky
what is he a colombian teen

stretched thin brown hands
scrape under a slingshot
no the sky the looking rod

not yet young flanking through
his brown handsome powerful
pelt peeks out from under a baby

a slingshot no what is he looking
at a scrape of static in the sky
the beast on terrace place becoming-man

walks north east the colombian stretches
thin arms overhead handsome young
powerful a slingshot through his brow

paculum-spec2-sm

Source:

Wikipedia Poem, No. 261

wiki261

“No one easily / survives love; neither the love / one has, nor the love / one has not; they break down / in the red smoke blown up / of the day when all love will have gone on.” Galway Kinnell

 

        not desperate not desperate 
         not 
        desperate not desperate not desperate not 

desperate not desperate 
      not 
desperate 

not 
desperate 
not desperate 

    not 
desperate not desperate not 
desperate not desperate 

  not desperate not 
desperate not desperate not desperate not 
         desperate not desperate not desperate not 

desperate not desperate 
      not desperate not 
desperate not desperate not 

desperate not desperate 
      not 
desperate 

not desperate not desperate not desperate 
not 
desperate not desperate not 

         desperate not thirsty in the 
rolling fighting flat white house paint a well-used 
drop cloth