sea glass
DESCRIPTION
minimalist poemsTRANSCRIPT
Sea glass
Sea glass
Copyright © Jack Galmitz, 2015
New York, New York
Sea glass
Jack Galmitz
Sea glass on the shelf randomness
Scribbling in my form
the fractions of the clouds
in the predawn
In my neighborhood
there's no body of water
except me
The city
where I was born is gone
I tramp on
It gets dark early
still.... I'm glad to be
a living being
following the veins
of a leaf
to the street
Streetlamps and stars
we learn
from before
Looking at myself
in the store window
there's a fat old man
Starlings burst
from a leafless tree
a song in a dream
Apartment buildings
covered with graffiti
a new city
Outlines of buildings
in a photograph at night
& that tiny light
A rock my pillow
the moonlight my lamp
leaves flapping about
Overnight snow
crooked lines protruding
with shadows
The sky
a blanket of snow
before it snows
Rusted nails hammered
in a white painted board
thin slanted shadows
I charged the tree
and brought it down
it's warm in my house
Did the tree choose to be
or are its branches
latencies
An empty grain bin
a man and a woman
and nothing between
is it
a cry or a sound
the biting wind
I like factories
squat buildings belching smoke
but I hate lunch trucks
Christmas Eve
The tinsel on the parking lot fence
is barbed wire
Uprooted fig trees
razed villages
the bulldozer is to blame
Weep for Khlebnikov
his Radio of the Future
was murdered
Praise Avraamov
his Symphony of Factory Sirens
recorded the end of history
A miner's pick
found in a man's brain
on an x-ray
The drifts of snow
slow our movements down
dressed in space suits