[There were days when the smell…]



There were days when the smell
of the river would lift
your eyes, even
with the sun’s hand
pulling your neck like one brother
pulling another’s head to his.
Call from the bank and hear
the water meekly teach itself
your language and your voice,
but rivers never carry on
a legacy for long.

“Poem #1”

Poem #1
Don’t look for me on facebook
I have an account that boasts
photos, links to long-dead
websites, music taken
down by court order or not
available in your area,
to listservs neglected
into nothing, not-renewed
domains, left to relapse
into place savers or porn.
As the internet cools to zero K
even the pop-ups will drop and fade
never to have spring again.
But that is my facebook page, my
myspace, my flickr.
Don’t dig up an empty coffin, you won’t find me there.