White Buttons

Having been blown away

by a book

I am in the gutter

at the end of the street

in little pieces

like the alphabet

(mother do not worry

letters are not flesh

though there’s meaning in them

but not when they are mean

my letters to you were mean

I found them after you died

and read them and tore them up

and fed them to the wind

thank you for intruding

I love you now leave)

Also at the end of the street

there is a magnolia tree

the white kind

that tatters

after it blooms

so the tree winds up

in the street

Our naked shivering bodies

must be at some distance

missing us    come back

come back they cry

come home

put down that book

whenever you read

you drift away on a raft

you like your parrot

more than you like me

and stuff like that

(dear father

you always were a bore

but I loved you more

than interesting things

and in your honor

I’ve felt the same about myself

and everyone I’ve ever met)

I like to read in tree houses

whenever I can    which is seldom

and sometimes never

The book that blew me away

held all the problems

of the world

and those of being alive

under my nose

but I felt far away from them

at the same time

reading is like that

(I am sorry I did not

go to your funeral

but like you said

on the phone

an insect cannot crawl

to China)

Here at the end of the street

the insects go on living

under the dome

of the pacific sky

If Mary and Joseph

had walked the sixty miles

to Bethlehem vertically

they would have found

themselves floating

in the outer pitch of space

it would have been cold

no inns

a long night

in the dark endless

and when they began to cry

the whole world would think

something had just been born

I like to read into things

as I am continually borne forward

in time by the winds like the snow

(dear sister

you were perfect in every way

like a baby

please tell brother

the only reason

we never spoke

was out of our great love

for each other

which made a big wind

that blew us apart)

I think I am coming back

I feel shoulders

where a parrot could land

though a tree would be

as good a place as any

You cannot teach a tree to talk

Trees can say    it is spring

but not    though bright sunlight

can also be very sad

have you noticed?