Classroom Notes September 11, 2009

 
Thin lines holding up the shoulders,
snapping, disappearing,
like idle thoughts lost, shivering
in the cold, in mindless speaking,
rambling, huddles
of letters falling
in some random numerical order
but far from technical, secular sorts,
the uppercase being a national hero
for all the apostrophes
making them stand with motionless singularity
like an apostle,
because God can’t live alone.

The History of Drinking September 3, 2009

 

Calm, collected,
infatuated with quietness
whispering to me,
like dust rumbling over book casing,
padding along the top
of parched pages disintegrating under
artificial, alien lights -
sand paper in limestone
quarries.
Tiny wings clapping
in translucence, vindictive
fluttering, taps
against the bulb -
every man’s flight
towards God.
Fissures scratching
inside man-made glass,
florescent vines
cutting outlines -
a kinder garden of
time-outs and mind
envisioning the arboretum
to come from
Benjamin Franklin thinking
while drinking under what
watered [...]