The Meaning of Poems

haven't you read something
the line or the words
and thought how beautiful
they sounded together

and then wondered at the meaning
until you invented your own

how long
did you carry that meaning
around in your head
its profoundness a clangor
striking your skull

and did you not
quote that line
with its meaning so clearat a moment suitable
for such a line
how did you feel
when you read an analysis
of the poem that line that did not match your own
I hope you didn't accept it

Last Cold Night

the stars were ice
night fell in my chest
that dream of you
I cannot remember
stinging cold
made me walk home
to sleep with a light on when I thought
> of your heat
in another room
in another city
I had to close my eyes
pretend you were lying
inches away
if it gave me any comfort
to think this way
my finger were too numb
to feel it
I plunged my face
beneath the surface
of my pillow
I nearly drowned with
something like the line
from a poem
it entered my body
I wanted to write it down
its cutting and rough edges
but the ink froze
from outside my body
I saw the metaphor
within the metaphor
of this house
with its broken heater
my breath clouding
almost alive
and I wanted to be
anywhere anywhere
away from this place
somewhere warm
but all the fires of the world
burn on the hills of other cities
and the fire in my body
would not start

Like Hera in America

she pays the floozy off out of the joint account
no not that joint you don't inhale re
member this constant putting up with
His womanizing but for the power
of Olympus she says its worth it and in
another few years after divorce she gets
the "you go girl" vote and Olympian
splendor again

Mother of the Dark Weeds of My Heart

the monsters with human faces said words
love trust family
and made them heavy stones buried in soil
they moved over my life cultivating my shadow
monitoring growth scorching the earth
burned villages drove me deeper
into my rebel spirit fighting in the bush
when I needed someone someone left when I needed truth lies were published
mother left me with her father _her_ monster
they both tore open my flesh planted their weeds
I kept my distance I keep great distance
all day straining at the dark weeds of my heart
that phone call to remind me of guilt
some duty other sons performed for other mothers
a frame I cannot fit in distance safe safe distance
pulling weeds believing in the soil more weeds
sowing seeds singing the rain song
carving my story petroglyphs in stone
my mythology of weed demons
aftermath of their reign the farmers made rebels
heroic battles with shadows the tending of the land
an unending vigil and a song for pulling weeds

Anthropomorphic

no birds
then birds
descending from a gray sky
_I wonder
if they all decided to look for food
before the rain_
ink there's one bird
who tells the others
to go work at getting food
who expects a manager's fee
and a percentage of the take
_you've been working late again_