RC

I heard that Robert Creeley died and I was sad about it because I have a lot of his books and I like them.

If you walk a certain route everyday that takes you past a stone wall and a chain link fence you might see markings, paint and scrapes come and go on the stone, and see weeds that grow up into the links of the fence.

Weeks, months go by and the marks on the stones change, the weeds get cut, trash builds up along the fence line. Sometimes you notice interesting patterns in the scrapes and in the pieces of weeds and trash.

Weeks, months go by, you notice that certain groups of patterns recur, almost like they are being put there with intention, although it doesn't strike you as too unlikely that you might think that and really you are trying to find patterns. Nature has a way of making interesting designs like that.

Weeks and months continue to go by and one day you take your route early and you happen to see a person walking away, putting scraping tools, paint and knives into their coat . You conclude that, yes, in fact, someone is marking those certain patterns where you have been looking

As you get closer to the area it still looks just natural but the same patterns are there again fresh, certain piles of paper, a piece of cardboard smacked against the fence, scrapes in the stone, paint chips, ribbons in the fence, a little mark on the stone that looks like writing.

That is like how Mr. Creeley's poetry felt and it meant a lot to me.

Four One

I cannot accept, and you cannot accept, complicity in this sad event. It’s meth, I’m sorry, and we must follow the pipeline to wretched financiers. Forty tons a month, it adds up and needs organization and some discipline. Seize a million pounds, if you want to absorb the atmosphere one breath at a time. Tasted France and Spanish, asked around, rolled like De Soto back through your hometown.

Five Three

Legal immigrants, handicapped beauty, a suffering cop, mother off the roles, a dog for the blind, athletic heroes, an assault victim, child care workers, tribal refugee,

Three Two

This operation, given with consent, performed upon us in the hopes that we might sleep and not sense, inflames nerve endings. Acutely aware of neurogenic inflammation, the origin of which distorts recognition of the origin, a scream seems like a pleasant dream cherished anxiously through seven days awake.

haunted house

This house is unhealthy
We are shut up in here:
cousins, nieces, aunts,
second cousins and a dog.
Betty was moping around today,
threatening to leave.
I got Betty to promise
She'd leave me all her cigarettes when she goes.
The dog leapt at Kevin.
Betty ran across the room
The dog turned away
and attacked Betty.
She finished out of the money.