seeing/saying: October 2013

Thursday, October 31, 2013

There is a speech

Delivered to stone

That might receive

An answer

These are the words

That multiply hope

To simply become

A cancer

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

The drums begin

Before the door

Shuts on a

Blade of time

Unnaturally

A slicing through

Levels the

Playing hands

All the pretty dancers

Run to home

In on

Their hastened

Wound

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

The best years

Of our lives

Return from campaign

Ravaged

An alternative end

May have us joined

In a heart one

Bitter harvest

The flooded fields

A grid of targets

Let's ride the pickup

Down the peninsula

One last time

The duck motif

On the motel drapes

A joke between

Lonely hunters

Tom McGlynn

Monday, October 28, 2013

These presents

Still-brought

To my door

Were at one time

Full of perches

A place to bed

One down

Can so be

Weather flown

Beyond the garden

Lay a hose

Snaked out

For stalking

Thirst

Tom McGlynn

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Waitless kisses

Drafted on air

Are stolen breaks

Unworn to care

A bait of breadth

Fleet of late

Won't relieve

The lack of wait

Tom McGlynn

Friday, October 25, 2013

The sun is tired

The trees are tired

The children in the street

Are tired

The wind is tired

The sea is tired

The slot to slip a fee

Is tired

The concrete is tired

The asphalt too

Nothing rests

Till it gets to you

Tom McGlynn

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Your urgent tweet

Can't compete

With the thrush

At dusk

Which throws

Its voice

Beyond around

The house

Of man

At dusk

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

You can shoot

The breeze

Until its shot

And wait until

The world forgot

To wend the wind

A way

You can talk to a tree

But then again

You might just love

Remembering when

Its spirit became

A shade

You can paint

The wall

The color of brick

But each joint

Of the course

Remains as thick

As when you first

Imagined it

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

The site

Of large mercy

Is gone

To units

With a view to

Another view

The primes

Are elevated

On a hook

In a promenade

Riding gear

Is de-rigueur

For walking

The in breed

Stopped at the bar

Small selfies beg

Tight- assed

For a five dollar

Shot

All is spent

In surgery

For countenance

An evenly distributed

Wealth

Lifting all faces

Tom McGlynn

Sunday, October 20, 2013

This has become

An occupation

Of sorts

What can one do

When faced with

Such odds

Nothing apparently

Since who cares

About about about

I can't even explain

What just happened

Tom McGlynn

Saturday, October 19, 2013

October rain

Is older

Than June

When heavy

With children

Sprinkled

These drops hold

To the pane

Longer

And windily

Rise to

A longer dawn

The pocket night

Past scattered prisms

Meets the whites

Of foraging eyes

An opossum

In profile

Runs flat

Across the road

Out of the pouch

Of October

Tom McGlynn

These bleak rocks

Stubbed of tow

Released of air

Redressed for show

A galaxy

Of empty space

A permanent

Uncommon place

Not content

To obstacle

The ordinates

Of man's disgrace

Tom McGlynn

There is no transport

Like a look

That cuts a way

A schedule took

An unbeknownst

To you or eye

Inflamed of habit

Passing by

A life a liberty

Of time

Too easy made

An awful rhyme

Tom McGlynn

Thursday, October 17, 2013

A woman once said

She could tell

From a walk

Just how

A person

Stood

There have been

Clues

All along

That her world

Is climed

With gentle

Men

A knot

Or wisp

Of hair

Can heel them

To the ground

Tell me

How does one foot

Follow through

The other

At such

An insistent

Gate

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

It is dark

All the art

That places

The runners up

Has gone

To rest

Its take

Any conference

Opens to the floor

Strewn with

Correspondence

Letters barely dead

Though nothing

Is charged

Neither debts

Are waived

What day costs to break

Must milk the night

The street

Isn’t rushed

Laying wait

For the trees

Descending

To cat around

October- like

Tom McGlynn

Creaky planked

Star-crossed and prone

To ratty speeches

Long in tail

These politicians

Plucks their briefs

From skins

Of former

Constituents

Aroused by

Thwarting magically

The chord that birthed

A thousand shifts

A tidal pool

Of years

When babies are chucked

Beneath their chins

And wail like men

With gartered shins

A salty stream

Is preferable

To a bath

In crocodile

Tears

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

The mockingbird

Never seems

To land shy

Of anxious declaration

Looping

His flight

Of babble

Has nested deep

In my lizard brain

Somewhere between

Genus and species

And other taxidermied

Classifications

Of mine

This white and grey

Feathered climate

Permits a stay

Of eviction

But no perches

On locatable rest

Tom McGlynn

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Quite desperate

You rigged

Your shallop

Coasting

And chance

Uncovered

A winter cache

That starved

A summer peace

Not yours

Of course

But providence

Retained

A killing

Reason

You who would

Follow a hunch

To hobble a land

With no limit

Had such

A poorly compassed

Heart

Tom McGlynn

Saturday, October 12, 2013

At 10 o'clock

Do you know

Whose gods

People are

Left

As you are

To your own

Device

Your time

Might be off

As migrant

As the moon

Half-past

Which sails

Beyond

Your pale

Tom McGlynn

Friday, October 11, 2013

Go welcome

Into the kicking leaves

Scattered and curbed

Your play

Is waiting

In these

Left by

The fleeing sky

Slanting indigo

Shedding whatever

Ever was

Tom McGlynn

Thursday, October 10, 2013

All that was

Recalled

Walking down

The street

Was the grouper

In the Vietnamese

Restaurant tank

That seemed to be

Greeting dinner

Or happy to be

Just ornamental

What peace

To be in

Your own

Service

When the grenades

Could still easily

Float

And a family

Swamped

Might not

Have sailed

What peace

To ornament

An orphan star

And to keep it

In country

What pulp

Preserved

Can reef

This island

When on the main

All history stopped

Tom McGlynn

Pouring in on

Just how

Stripped

Of vassals

His estate

Was moted

In the fire

Next time

He leers

Upon his

Legacy

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

The switchback

Climbing

Through live oak

And grass parched

Straw dry

Pulls dusty trains

Of leads followed

Through a shafted sun

Whittled back into

Cold ruts

Of the last rigs

To limber down

Lightly here

A meadow

Straying music

Sounds farther

Up the country

Stuck in a hollow

Rocking

Back and forth

The hollows sounded

All hearing of them lost

On a hogback road

The black sage

Has loudly perfumed

This evening

Crushed inside

Of valley fingers

Minted on the breeze

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

A table

We go served

A mesa

With no access

A plain

Brown envelope

We go

Flying in the

Been

Tom McGlynn

Monday, October 7, 2013

Devils are hiding

Beneath your bed

Happy to haunt you

Until you are dead

Their crying in hell

Is to water your dreams

Children can tell

What a parent just seems

Whatever will meet you

Inside this half night

Will never complete you

Before the first light

Tom McGlynn

copright 2013

Sunday, October 6, 2013

She cried brightly

Through the fair

The fair

And early

Chorus

Piping higher

At the versus

Mourning

At a mother's

Stall

As a child

Too young

Forebearing

A feather plucked

Her heirs

Airs of string

And hammers

Dulcet

Blonder than the sun

Shone before

The water breech

Flashing irises

Past- reflecting blue

She cried brightly

Through the fair

Tom McGlynn

Set up the chairs

Reading from left

To right

The room

Won't be deep

Attendants

May get a word

In edgewise

When their names

Are up

Hands on the table

Face down

Just assume

The nave

Position

From no

Echoing

Footstep

Will you

Know this

Suite

Friday, October 4, 2013

You obviously

Don't care

About those

Cheap shoes

You wear

When the train stops

And then

You ascend

To the street

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Curious on that

Score

No notes

Are sounded out

All were

Played

In such

A kick

As to bend

Their music

Boxing ears

Tom McGlynn

Igneous in my

Deer imagination

A train of fawn

Blurs across

The sumac
A brush

Combing red

And cracking

The gneiss

Tom McGlynn

Lost count on

Roman skulls

Washed

Downstream

In former

Colonies

Even so

The graywater

Might be fouled

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Away in Hamburg

When the trabbies

Clogged the roads

And a passenger

Could pick up

Western marks

At the post

A family of four

From back east

Cruised

The Reeperbahn

At midnight

As if todt

Already

Tom McGlynn

There is a leak

Springs eternal

Puddling

The hollows

Puddling

The odd
Older hollows

A number

Too small

To mention

Comprising

A mouth

Tom McGlynn