Sine Wave in Calm and Storm

for Robert Weldon Hunt

What calculus is inherited from father. What algorithm
foretells the snowstorm on the highway, driving? What
poetry in music of folk songs to which his head swung
to politic and freedom ride. Ongoing dedication

in lessons

a clean house, continuous on an interval. Derivative
cloud, closed curve in a sandstorm. Periscope of his
bright making. What straight stare and analytic eyes.
White board revealing velocity of many

daughters moving across the room, over the yellow dotted line.
Sine. Perhaps it is the chain rule, half empty or half full.
Reliable horizontal line sloping like popcorn hypotenuse
gathered with needle onto thin thread to deck a season tree

carried in

two or more basic functions. Meeting to entreat
ongoing introduction to the skills the first born learns
from first born, with building blocks and abacus.

Arithmetic engineering bridges even a house divided in tsunami
lit with heaven’s gold star guiding through

weather and trajectory. Small pebbles of
continuous change.

Comments

Open Mic, Cafe Babar

I remember arriving, not the prettiest but appealing to certain bards in the back room, entering through the Castro Valley corner door, walking the postage stamp sized Cinzano bar curated by a man from Detroit who named his establishment after a certain French elephant in a children’s book I arrive with budding consciousness around politically correct solidarity for disheveled neighbors, entering the cigarette lit night rising to tin siding ceiling to floor thumping insistence Bruce and Joie and David and Laura and John, their ash and sweat accumulating as I waited patiently for my place on the crumpled sign-up sheet Today, three decades later, I sit in a Santa Fe gallery named simply Here, and a poet reads to us of roadrunners and a bear and a continuation of the call for preservation of our environment There is an otherworldly hum outside the window of leaded glass The owner sidles up behind me and pushes the fr...

Shameless Early Promotion

My poetry book, The Fiction of Stillness, is available for pre-order now on Barnes and Noble. Official release date August 1st, 2024. Here's a taste: ... The table is smooth and round symmetric The chairs are haphazardly placed at the end of this day I have breast cancer I say into the receiver [communities must] pool resources How to produce the sounds of the imaging report into sentences that resonate with months of postponement weighty contrast on my right side computing and comparing IM ratios for greater insight not sufficient to prove the efficacy of screening ...

Disarmed, for T.C.

On my back on the table in this your calm room you caress my ankles and will my body tributaries to rise up and meridians to exhale Your knowledge like pulling taffy with buttered hands Your strength redirects my body’s river which you lift and stretch Then you place a wafer of a small white pillow over my eyes that I might entirely succumb to your warm hands draping like weighted blankets over each of my resting shoulders With intention drifting toward chest measuring every underground hillock in these my pliable appendages...

As Mourning Doves Persist

Search This Blog