"For Not So Much The Love Of Weather" by Ngoc Doan

ngoc doan

for not so much the love of weather

for not so much the love of weather

an editors’ selection

for the manor house chapbook series

for not so much the love of weather ngoc doan

a manor house monograph | ny&sd 2014

yo u a re c o u n t ry li k e m e

when rain stitches the sky atmosphere’s proroguing if soggy flowers

of Autumn de-

cline

Spring’s pollinating

revolvers

pink yellow

and purple pink

redder

I admit no joy in pigmentations, sidledwalk pavement

in rain

worm

halves

9

squirrels race fence

birdfeeder, and pollen

spores accumulate on grass

there

we are like blue columbine

bursts

as us on the lawn is

evenings

see fireflies

10

it is April, so I always get what I want

stable

coaches, riding

loads

peter gilbert fills a hole

exposes

a calf

(seed

potatoes, perihelia posies

and cockatoo on fence

promised a man)

peaches keep crying

the crow’s waiting to hide things that

doesn’t what is to need secrets-

11

walk that dirt it is dusk already the rabbits ride

the horizon

wild they are to knife

lay your head duellum a wailing-some rent is retch

12

you’ve seen the sun

towers of glimmering light

picture

your levity

bareness

whitens

the back

ends

the other people they go by—

(no scrutiny) they are strange to you make sense

your disrobing consent you know these blossom trees are

swept

what do you remember— it’s a day like do cry

any other

13

t h e at re

there are fruit trees and marble slabs uniform not every thing is this deep backlash slap of

every comment

purple

brutish

I’m content

sometimes

in the morning

I peel hardboiled eggs in sink water steams

and berry

this frustration I wish that I knew

figure

as if— pushing you off the bridge not by accident this is us walking in the dark.

14

in the beginning it’s free

you don’t care enough

our exuberance, a dream of LA

and

flown rapier lines on upper lips

there are stars on your ceiling

or do I see stars

at the end of the night a song is still

playing

—I’ve forgotten

what I was doing

15

c atc h

I

flushes

and

everything falls the world’s broken

I am not lief,

you, holdness

wave this way—

or we are not there

wake up to see the sky

bunch of balloons

fly

before telephone lines

16

b lue d fro m g u n

1.

Ruby look twice at the bull’s eye it is robbery, nameless smile

that’s not for you

say, you’re the cowgirl! volcano rain

on your face

and I want a last ride through the prairies with you

17

2. ghost towns have no ghost oily vestige loudmouth anger those confuse me point, shoot set down my gun sheriff’s

stared!

18

3. over due the undertow

runs sour rum

lie to the dogs I ace deny you don’t blink!

19

fa llac i e s

it is so good my guy

planks

and

the other side

measures

inches for beat

as our fingers pride happy

tying

rue

bent and mold back -ward

rub me wrong wayward

I tie you down

20

s i e n na

her lipstick

trace her

mascara trouncing cigarette ash she is girl awestruck black, cocktails repartee variance/ iwantyou

four knots

—going vermouth joie slip

down size singular

21

au g ust ra i n

the longevity in summer days the time of bearing it’s mine,

love

that yellows the decaying leaves drafted on windshield by watermark light blanches dust in air silence between radio songs

22

p o rc e la i n ri g h t

my Russian princess

tells of her favorite pup view the wind

bellying the window

curtains

bare twigs

trees backlit sunset

orange, red

and wax

cinders

its breath of flowery

sure, forlorn

dahlias cinnamon

sticks

the ballroom’s bareness

23

because our concern of time

you turn to say

—where would you go

24

w h at yo u d o to me

I cannot

sleep sideways that my arms are numb underneath

love you have the whole constellation on your back affliction of words

like fuck and more

obscene

wound

forgive me when the nights

of tremors, ache

no stars

stop you love glimpses of faith when the blinds do come down

love forbears

of faith all you

25

forgive me again, again

what do you do to me

but love

26

w h at i s

twin in sky,

spindle twinges

that radiate breast from breast. eerie freezes under me the tempest mood

drops at night

below the bed a weapon I’m ready to beat dead

27

p e re n n i a l s e e saw

my life runs lengthy the soothsayer’s presage but I rank

pinball tremors and

replay

consternations that I do not know I face you

—debalancing me as roundabouts

coursing

our childlike

speak on fairgrounds where we have found the sky flint and stormed

impassionedly

navigated

heart’s cyclone

whaling an eye

out shores

lost me 28

wa n i ng

The blemishes of half lies We pulled on the blindfold

and thought to take

baby steps

Did we grow

cold and worn

Those tattered shoes shoveled

until stumbled us.

29

few

among others— our world our place do not enter— the door is shut window opened to bend the air outside it snows the ice follows irritant imitative to voices they do not penetrate we find ourselves warm who have known this paradise are not

30

nov e m b e r p o e m

Winter has rudely arrived the cider tastes sour

it does not warm me always a draft from somewhere

the bedroom is a Russian battlefield I have hands of a lifeless person I cannot touch

you

jumping

nights to phantasms & daylight’s cold comfort as we go we march on frozen

plateaus

31

bundled up

double bind & cannot turn to hold each other lost in parkas

no expansion

wax i ng

The sky is sonnet white The landscape engulfs us

in its grief We feel ocean in tunnels of mountain snow

The distance from where we were to now is ever.

32

Manor House, LLC New York, San Diego http://manorhouse.co Copyright © 2014 by Ngoc Doan All rights reserved Frontispiece by Kerry Hyatt: “Moons,” watercolor on arches, 2009.

Designed by James Meetze. Covers printed by Daniel Heffernan at Clove St. Press, signatures printed in the United States, and hand sewn in an edition of 250. Typeset in Mercury.

This is ________ of 250.

First Edition, 2014 ISBN: 978-0-9859095-4-3

AC K NOWLE D G E M E NTS Different versions of some of these poems have appeared in Conjunctions Magazine.

The title, “Blued from Gun,” is an adaptation of the Jesus and Mary Chain’s song, “Blues from a Gun.”

manor house monographs 1. Dark Art by James Meetze, 2013 2. In The Air by Peter Gizzi / Richard Kraft, 2013 3. For Not So Much the Love of Weather by Ngoc Doan, 2014

selected for the manor house chapbook series not every thing is this deep backlash slap of every comment purple brutish I’m content sometimes