Saturday, February 14, 2026

For Judy

sitting propped up     against a tooth
in a forest of deciduous rainstorms
i hold your moon in my hands
	like an archaeopteryx
	like a model of the town of ur
	like a blue mushroom’s urgent dreams of sunrise
sweat drops     from leaves
footprints erase themselves around me
a lake     far away
takes its place among the clouds
	and your moon glows like a heart
	and i try to find songs for it
	and the tooth is so smooth
	the ground below it so warm
	that it sighs in the moonlight




from Yew Nork (2014)

Saturday, February 7, 2026

Beach

you should be careful around
the oceans inside your shoes

they can drown you

there is nothing to absorb them
even socks     even artificial sponge

they fill your shoes every time you walk
then     after you’re used to that
they fill them every time you think
then your thoughts walk
carry you to the edge of an ocean
you couldn’t have imagined otherwise

it’s the loneliness there
the loneliness there that can drown you



from Yew Nork (2014)

Saturday, January 31, 2026

Stopping for a Look Inside

once a year the year rolls around again
its little prickly stabs of
but down the street the salvage place has plenty of bathtubs
its eighteenth century clockface     all the odd palaces
there are thorns on most of the limbs
every time the pendulum swings the crowd gasps in admiration
our old neighborhood is looking a little grungy these days
or at least wear thick gloves and a jacket with heavy sleeves
	the old hollywood club is stripped to its beams
	the bus goes past me as i look through its planked-over windows
	time is slowing down     i remember the
	times i walked past this place on my way to the burger joint
	nothing there i ever noticed except for music sometimes
	now it’s empty     soundless like the inside of time




from Yew Nork (2014)

Saturday, January 24, 2026

Railroad Dawn

they’ve been gathering at the train station four weeks running now
police     carnival barkers     sleep doctors
lawyers with morse code keys attached to their fingers
they’re waiting for the large blue egg on the third platform to hatch

every morning just before i wake up it wobbles
there are scratching sounds inside it and all the trains
suddenly get quiet and that’s the signal
for the people who have come here to quiet down too

	no one passes judgment on the value of a dawn
	it’s new despite itself     it resembles
	itself as it’s been over and over again since before the dinosaurs
	but no one arrests its motion     holds it to law
	after all it’s only earth turning over in its sleep
	after all when it’s done it can’t go back to slumber








from Yew Nork (2014)

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

One Word

as the daylight comes back again
the table left on the sidewalk folds
itself into a small metallic square
then expands suddenly
off over trees    hedges    parked cars
all this so fast it seems to disappear
but it hasn’t vanished at all
just gone unhindered into the vast universe
that you thought you knew
leaving just the small paper sign
that had been taped to its top:
            free



Monday, January 5, 2026

Dominant Species

man
on the street
feeding treats
to his dog
on their walk

the moment canines
took over the world