Gold

for Brian Teare

 

I'm driving myself to the doctor

in a borrowed black car, my little routine. 

I'm getting a shot in my ass today. 

Someone with a tender hand and a smile

I can't see takes my blood. 

 

My blood fills vial after vial. No matter how 

many times, I've done this, I'm always surprised 

by how much they take. By how much 

comes out of me. Blood becomes boring.

I imagine it is gold, the gold replaces me. 

 

This lab is cold and too modern.

I come here on my birthday and my half,

when all is done, I’m weakened. 

My edges patina like the snake at the river. 

Where does my gold go when no god

 

is nearby. Another nurse who isn't

smiling calls out a name I don't quite catch

as the door closes. I am heading 

west today which feels like a choice 

a person like me would make. The gold 

 

flow punctuates my day. Second chances. 

The green of my life. A kiss on the wrist.

 

 

 

My Lover and I are Inventing a Country 

title borrowed from the first line of Larry Levis's poem "In a Country" 

 

wide open with strange landscapes 

 

in the blue light of angels euphoria cracks

 

 the heads of flowers and is everywhere 

 

our cities elegies the world 

 

offers romance and our fucking 

 

becomes the sonic space 

 

and the waste of time our love

 

 is so big we must take it outside 

 

let hope widen towards unadorned beauty 

 

let the field be the canvas of our play bells ring 

 

us into sovereignty a chorus sings the song