Monday, March 1, 2010

Mark Cunningham

Black And White Click Beetle

An observation is not gradual: the subconscious mind
cannot understand this statement right away. The most
nightmarish part was waiting for it to be over, but I didn't
realize it was a nightmare until it was over.


Pointing at the woods, he said, "All this was something
at one time." I have my talking habits and my talking cure,
and now my talking cure is my talking habit.

Blue Milkweed Beetle

He "superimposes on the art of words the art of following
his own phantoms" but then we realized we couldn't see
the words, either, or they lay there breathless until we
spoke. The light traveled 25,500 light years to land on my
eyelids in the 300 milliseconds that I blinked.


The circle of life: a run-over squirrel, then around the corner
a run-over raven. The world is everything that's just in case.
One hundred degrees, stark sun, and still one moth left over
to bump against the TV at night. You can never watch the
same movie of a river twice.

-all poems previously published at Laura Hird

No comments:

Post a Comment