t h e  p o e m   o f  m y  l i f e
the poem of my life is easier to write at 6 am and far more visible,
how visible the twinkling of its threads this early in the morning against the night
light my way best
with the heart of things,
at this time when i haven't had the time to gather up all the bits of armor i would put on to make me different from you and
me different from him and
him and then
this has always been the heart of me
to stare into the middle
of this morning blackness and see
us







s i g h t
see me here, nude as birth lustful as a boy
confused as any child on the brink every time i think i've figured it out here it goes again
and it is life
and it is the movement of the earth
and it is the mother
the father, the following of the day upon the night
the admission that three fourths and
nine tenths of the world exist beyond my sight