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David Katz Fall 2013 Poetry Workshop Ratcliffe

Eucalyptus air forgotten its own airness the noises yawn a two track spine spilled egg glittering over cold asphalt hardened yolkmark on burnt toast a lunchtime toast to breakfast passed over en-route to the past the past give me a spoonful or I won't last the last bite of salt and butter radish the last week of school the last ten years on the american trail forgetful early morning thought the last poem quoted hoarsly over barnoise the last hair left touching the lip as the lip remembering the ear's flush grease and sweat and deep darkness moves over so the eyes can scrounge for crumbs of understanding a whisper where no one even eavesdrops–– these secrets–– spoken into salty hair with mayonnaise breath and neck spasms jaws grinding, teeth powdering into oyster mouthwash this time they will not fall or loosen this time they will not wiggle like a broken wooden heel this time the roots will stay as the upside-down tree first sheds

then chips at every twiglet and branchtip dragged over early morning asphalt in the land of fog and hesitation sanded bark flesh and sap until stumpless the unseen roots, this time is as good as next this time no better than last this time still a stupid fish playing live to a hungry crowd no prophet heard this time and if once heard, this time left unrecalled amongst the coiled and blundered wires tangled entangled retangled this time a telephone technician in afternoon quiet guessing his best connects Jim and Dave and other chaps with a lady lost in the great empty between the stars

Eucalyptus air  
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