Lay in the terminology

Or, February 28th

Moonless and nightest sky

Or, February 27th

Searching becomes the pattern

Or, This is for real life

Or, And then I'll tell you that story

Or, February 26th

Than are dreamt of

Or, February 25th

Day on her own

Or, February 24th

I don't know what that is

Or, The hand to this door

Or, February 23rd

Scythe action

Or, February 22nd

Madness as madness

Or, Necessary place

Or, A breath, a whisk

Or, February 21st

What, you don't like the big openness?

Or, "She's not really there for me"

Or, February 20th

Something simple on my head

Or, February 19th

It's all you

Or, February 18th

Sometimes I'm sure

Or, B.Y.O Subtext

Or, February 17th

You should only come

Or, Mountains are mountains

Or, February 16th

Propose another toast

Something else is already true again

Or, A year ago, would you have known that?

Or, February 15th

First Fig

before

i could devise

a myth of beforeness

of knowing and desire sitting

bare in the

hand—

I tore it open already

something in me tore it—

the same thing that walks back

to see again the wet peeled stomach

of the fawn beside the trail

tore it

then laid it

somewhat sorry in a 

white reflecting bowl

doubling back to the ruptured dead

its branchlike elbows

there is a way to hold your tongue

not to taste

but in my kitchen

the two halves in the bowl

give up their secret

smelling of wet stone

sing me a short song of

sucking the marrow out

don't doubt that what holds

us together like a

raindrop's skin

proves

to be

also

black crepe

and cling to the teeth

A Guide to Recognizing Time

Love is chemicals

…is the name of a band.  I first became aware of them last week, so I shouldn't really be using their name as the title of the day.  But it's Valentine's Day, and I feel like reaffirming for myself the chemical aspect of what we call love, not to undermine or call into question love's spiritual element, or, for that matter, the fact that love seems to be the Whole Deal and then some.  But just to lighten the mood, and for the sake of remembering that damnable (sometimes) and blessed reality— that mind, body and spirit are one. 

And then, because it touched me so when I received it this morning in a Valentine card from my cousin Lindsay, two cents from Thoreau:

"There is no remedy for love but to love more."

Or, February 14th

Even closer than your hands and feet

Or, February 13th

But the brazen wing

Or, It's got all these things that I can feel

Or, February 12th

Be the question, or the doubt

Or, February 11th

The illusion it's moving backwards

Or, February 10th

Its own hands and feet

Or, We are, and we are not

Or, Having new eyes

Or, February 9th

It makes you

Or, February 8th

You're taking a rest

Or. February 7th

Anybody's hopes up

Or, What's in it?

Or, February 6th

Such a tiny window

Or, Unlike most

Or, February 5th

And lock it after you

Or, February 4th

We are story machines

Or, February 3rd

It comes from you

Or, February 2nd

Even sometimes open doors for us to go through

Or, February 1st