Day 10 - Tired Week, Doing Too Much

Went to the Black Keys, Morning Benders show. It was amazing. I've not transcribed the poem I wrote today at lunch. I'm so delirious. Goodnight.

For You, A Secret

This is how I write in public…
First, I let my body become a surface
this is practice this
to dry the skin into a hard soil
make voices, even important, ping
off your clammed up ears
the footsteps of others must be believed
to dance in an upstairs apartment
as your eyes drop from frame
and achieve frames, the red rimmed edges
of the skin, of the barely opaque face
this is when you feel your bones
lift and place yourself like a crane operator

Second, you must find the quiet you have left
if you were me, you’d stored it up
in a childhood bed, in the snowbank cave,
in a word your teacher wrote once on a paper
and if the world impedes, slivers in
go smaller into reserves
into the skim pool of a birdbath In West Virginia
into a sectional of a frozen honeycomb
into the ear of a rabbit you mowed
listen inside that unlimited quiet

that’s where I'll be

Day 5 - The Earth Has a Hole in It

So the genesis for this poem is interesting. I suddenly remembered my 10th grade Chemistry teacher, Mr. Frink, walking into class and announcing that we had on school premises one of the most volatile chemicals in existence. It was so acidic that it must be kept in something special. And I remember that it was something very unassuming. Like wax or colored glass. But he assured us that if he were to bring it in, it would burn through every substance between here and the earth.

For the next two years of high school, I was obsessed with the idea of breaking into the science supply closet and stealing this chemical. It was actually one of my senior prank ideas. But after one senior prank went horribly south, I gave up on it.

It's possible Mr. Frink was lying as well and just wanted to get our attention. It's not a deep or mind blowing poem. Just something fun to write.


Volatile

In our high school science supply closet,
there is a chemical locked in wax
that is so potent, that if released
would burn through all beakers,
through the heavy black wood of science tables,
through all gym bags and all sneakers,
through the rough tile of the school,
through cement, through rebar, through time capsules,
it will carve fire through earthworms, cicadas asleep,
through root systems and under-rivers,
it will drill the bedrock, lance the iron ores,
go through dinosaurs piecemeal,
burn mysteries, melt undiscoveries,
and into the core and out again
with barely a burp
and then up again, out of the world,
to the flats of Australia,
rising up against gravity,
dispersing a cloud,
past therma, tropo, strato, meso spheres
into the forever superhighway of space
where it can be
someplace it is against nothing,
only inert.