Poetry

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invocation

Let us make our mark—

          upon the paper
            when we declare
               our mind,

          upon the earth
            when we take
               our stand,

          upon the heart
            of those we cherish
             and, more tenderly,
            on those we fear —

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Both Bombs and Daffodils Burst

colors of yellow
tarry and flash,
harbingers of what-no-more,
(city and seed)
each a cervix for where-we-go,
calmly seething.

In my nose roasting smoke,
in my nose like that sweet
indiscernable scent
both mammal memory
and thick honey
of my newborn's head,
oh, delicious taste—
deathing and birthing,
we are all calmly seething.

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Dad

You said you"ll return as a raven.
whose black eyes will see me again.
Me, comfortable with the visiting dead,
promise to look each corvid in the eyes

And search          the skies            for you.

You built worlds with concrete, pure iron
and steel calculations working your white slide rule:
          bridge to sandstone,
          pyramid to sky,
          underwater high-rise
in deep           liquid land          of North Sea—



Somehow now          you vow          one day to fly
                     as a black bird will.



That story, how you perched on steel girders,
straight edge propped in your shirt pocket,
          pencil and pad,
          wind and load,
          trusses and beams,
they hovering above downtown—
you balance.

Now here, an aluminum walker steadies you.
Nevertheless—in this small bedside drawer
I find your slide rule
          like a loyal compass,
          still.
Dad, when you're alone,
do you take out that slide rule to feel
          it glide,          the come          the go—
do you calculate distance and ravens?