(This feature is part of TRUCK’s Theme Issue on the List or Catalog Poem. You can go HERE for an Index of the Participating Poets.)
“I believe in the lives of many things . . . . worn out and reborn. In Kyoto you find a very interesting tomb called fudezuka. It’s a tombstone for old pens. Once you use your pens, you cannot put them in the garbage, you have to perform a ritual.”
~ Hidetoshi Kato
In Northampton, MA as you step from shop to street you’re liable to look up from an ice cream cone or a thought, to see a clown standing off at some not far enough distance, staring at something, maybe you.
I saw a Monarch stopping over on a Commercial Street P’town blossom just before the necessary journey to Mexico. A friend took its picture. I wanted to introduce myself. We open we close. August folds us up, flutters us away.
Safety deposit box in which I save anecdotes, movie tickets torn in half, oily breadcrumbs of origin, particular colors that still fan out, recipes, coins, formulas, equations, nibs stained black and blue, words, white space, red candle wax, winter dreams, longing on a hinge, long-sleeved and emerald green.