Guest Post From The Masters: Matsuo Basho (happy new year, everyone)

Year’s end, all
corners of this
floating world, swept.

(secrets)

I do not want you
to sleep with her I want you.
What it means to tell. 

(I am sick and listening to Sufjan Stevens)

Most amazing grace:
That hunger is beautiful.
That emptiness fills.

(that woman)

She's a dry cookie.
Lacerates fingers and throats.
No bend, but will break.

(bow pose on top of the bed at midnight [reprised])

Roll left, and then right.
Pillows beneath me, and still
I'm afraid to fall.

(christmas evening, walking westward)

such highs and such lows.
that He martyred him for this.
it must mean something.

(it has been a long year and I am grateful)

fingers scented orange.
warm bread. my brother laughing.
always, there is joy.

(in the meantime, please)

In the meantime, please.
Know that patience comes hard; know
God, that my heart aches.

I am filled empty. 
Nothing left but silence. And
Memory. Too much.

(Arjuna, worried, speaks to Krishna before battle)

It needs to be done.
The right thing for its own sake.
Try; do what you will.

(better luck to Dylan Thomas' dad)

I am Anger me.
Rage, rage on the pillow case
Wretched morning's light

(how to walk across the water)

It is with lilies:
From one pad to another.
My darling, slowly.

(it is our messiness that holds us together, OR this is how a heron builds its home)

"A newly built heron nest is nothing more than a few dozen twigs arranged in the crotch of a tree, a platform about 18 inches wide and so flimsy one can count the eggs from the ground. Over the years, as the birds add sticks that become glued together with gallons of guano, the nest grows into a massive structure solid enough to hold a man."


First: Gathering Times.
Tree's limbs spreading for the tribe. 
Shit, the glue that binds. 

(what it would be like if I could talk and feel like that)*

Get it for yourself.
I ain't gonna bring water.
Man go, death of me.





*inspiration attributed to Joe Purdy

(thank you for reading)

To the "plus one-er":
Thank you. My inspiration
Thrills to your mouse clicks.

(I have taken to drawing a bath)

Friend says: Your own filth. 
You're sitting in it. And so
isn't it, in life?

(upon listing items for sale on Ebay)

I want your money.
It's a cold dog I've become.
Split my hairs; I'll bite.

(I saw a man biking)

Middle-aged and sure.
Bible pressed to handlebars.
Carried him uphill.

(I do not thrive in the suburbs)

Bored, paranoia.
Empty lawns and long commutes.
Few people, much want.

("wanting things is a form of sadness" --Isaac Pressnell)

Sugarplums. A doll.
Good health. Mother's happiness.
Mostly, to feel loved.