Okay

At the same time there is another way to describe this of course it had to do with them walking out of the place and probably they will become the love they always knew despite their best efforts the junk piled up and so we called off the search it wasn't anything to crow about so stay away it can only get worse not better I wonder about the hint that could go in here again what run do you have I wonder about it so we will become the strange things to come what will it be they said what will happen now and before they could figure it all out they were gone because of searing pain those dull aches. There was nothing really wrong but they hear it will be okay.

Say What

When was the first time I noticed and why does it matter now everything seemed to match no not really everything mostly though not only in my mind so what its done When I imagine the lava now I see the tall rock okay so what can I do but imagine without actually seeing

Strange Week

The week is strange without the words the pictures I see the old ones hanging there in space I look back to others and see how strong how unending this life even one look is all it takes the leaves the branches I return to the spot it fills me up so much so

What Else Happens

In the future how will I see the time of now time standing inside my many minds to this one fields and trees rocks rivers cold and swift it is the future I see back there Sunflowers leading

More Than Just One

Moon what did you say about when I was out of my league big time but went ahead anyway leaves so inviting I shook that tree only to find butterfly skeletons many fragments of their travels

Man's West Once

http://barrowstreet.org/press/anderson/ Here is a link to my long poem,"Man's West Once" published yesterday in Barrow Street.

Well I'll Be

This sinking feeling staring at the surfaces mostly flat long corridors with doors into the offices of the institute with a strange name and no place but a speckled floor and plastic chairs needing to be cleaned but no matter what I do it will look impossibly the same just less dust more krill whatever that is

Blank Page

So this is what it is like fumbling in reverse becoming undone and tangling time into a block of pain edges not as sharp to the touch to the tooth the day how it breaks off into so many pieces each one just like the next could it become any more abstract Weren't there things I knew before this and also the afterwards of this in the imagined future sliding further away

When Your Teacher Dies

The one who wrote about coots one who noticed everything now who will see before you do before you remember everything about him facts remain clues in everything about everything

Sunny Tom Clark Day

Sky all clear before the haze heats up weird to see the lone Canada goose at the edge of Fern Ridge Reservoir looking at the oaks from the beach then next to them in an instant how did it get there so quickly I thought it was just this morning checking to see if you were there making tracks in the wet sludge at the water's edge is that a swan no it is a goose and you were never alone

Well

I thought about the seep about the marsh its doing and undoing about the road where he grows when planted Thought about my mind on fire and not how my body aches then doesn't It is colder now even during the day feel fall wrap around scratched trees their trunks blistered leaves yellowed still August what is happening to the field berries too sweet

To Me

That's about it the small tenth years things changing all the time like I was talking before a work shirt they want the old timers out of here ten years out because of medical surgery come back double jeopardy because of what she said out could do better back home and working again

Then It Was

Then it was Maupin Maupin Maupin all the way to and from the chutes Maupin rolling along into August brand new summer after this shooting stars above the Landing curly bear faces and the great outdoor amphitheater Columbia Columbia Columbia ing here and there goes unchecked unnoticed undone

Thinking Of Maupin

The wind the train the rivers and its entrances a quiet day gazing at painted hills the ancient muck many colors wait what was said

Where We Are For Nick Grant

This is just to relate the fact that we are downwind of Maupin on the Harriman side for the long night ahead thinking about all the haze from the fires started out quite early making a stop in Vida then on to Suttle Lake the quiet side before Sisters Coffee Company now I forgot about venturing into Smith Rock at noon before heading to Kaneetah just in time look what is winding down the canyon in the breezes nesting above it all

Instead Of

Let it be known turn past the grove left after the creek sit beside me let's count another realm we'll be happy to know we did not belong Rocks trees antelope caverns tied to nothing but string inside longing so what if I found out my other self came undone after all the fishing line Everyone came here from everywhere exactly texture think it alright

Middle

This one is different close the window and shut the door so we can see what does not belong besides the daylight the wind what else stays here Up the McKenzie River we could become ourselves for a hour we could listen to every tree learn to chat learn to sing keeping up with the creeks their impossible languages where I miss the details I know and do not forget what takes time if you have

Coffee Pot

If we know what they're sayin' staff break room hell comp me plan on going home go home if you want you'll get paid next check a big one twenty-three days say I get my penny either way mine's leveled out hi folks how are you buddy once a month if even that long don't do that

Cave Life

I had to close up the cave for the night too much moon and too few days left outside in the sun so to speak moon could wait any old time what it is best at could we remember other reports of the Memories we traded built with sticks and stones you know which way is up I asked halfway through well that depends they said strictly speaking

Let The Fan Run

The idea is too hot moon over dust and oaks a hollowing out night under them A fancy thought inside the room where cool dark travels past understanding clock pillow noise rust soap water please please