Monthly Archives: April 2018

I would also be St. Kevin, and ignore what keeps us from working with him, from emulating his example. I would work to a loss of self–a no-self–only gesture. Not for reward but to strive for the thing itself. To become the thing itself. To tree.

ST. KEVIN AND THE BLACKBIRD

And then there was St Kevin and the blackbird.
The saint is kneeling, arms stretched out, inside
His cell, but the cell is narrow, so

One turned-up palm is out the window, stiff
As a crossbeam, when a blackbird lands
and Lays in it and settles down to nest.

Kevin feels the warm eggs, the small breast, the tucked
Neat head and claws and, finding himself linked
Into the network of eternal life,

Is moved to pity: now he...

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That time you threw the towel over the rack so effortlessly
when there was no comment that fractured the certainty
beyond being took you back to fifty years–
seeing no comment
…hearing sans judgment
thinking no name
…touching not felt
smelling no scent
…tasting w/out gesture
Another shore the wind sea foam at water’s edge
a child who once waited for the water to take him away
the tide lied because it pretended to divide ocean
It may be that even the concept of One is flawed
to name is to lie so let’s call it All.
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