yesterday I was going to meditate
but found myself on instead
where I bought a meditation pillow
a cushion for my tush to rest upon
because how could I ever expect
to reach full enlightenment
on anything less than Indian silk
lotus in full bloom embroidered
beneath my ischium

today I was going to meditate
but I wrote this poem instead


today is the Sabbath
I won’t work
though my work is a spiritual practice
people deliver me

in worship we heard of green burial
it’s scandalous
the amount of embalming toxins stuffed into the earth each year
as if our planet were a jelly donut

after amen
I drafted poets for my cause
and lit wicks for future candle lighters
I worked with my fingernail
at the spilled pearly white wax
hardened on the altar

today Lou Reed died
and I wonder how Laurie Anderson is coping
as I listen to O Superman, then Sharkey’s Day
a favorite when I was in 7th grade

today is the Sabbath
today Lou Reed died
it was liver failure
his organs stopped filtering, ceased and deceased
I wonder if he will be buried green
I wonder how Laurie Anderson is coping


Beatrice hangs on the museum wall
Ruddy full cheeks
Sumptuous lips
Her brown curls looping and lifting
Framing her child face

That is how you looked as a little girl
A man once told me
And for all his faults
All the variety of ways he broke my heart
He was correct about Beatrice

I think of her now
Decades later
Still hanging in that museum room
Surrounded by on lookers
No chance to grow up

Last I heard
They had renamed Beatrice
What a shame
To not only hold her hostage in time
But to also rob her of her name

Nameless, “Girl in Blue Dress”
With no means to protest


a good book is like a good lover
it’s easy to get lost between the covers
swept into an alternate reality
holding your attention

you do not fall into it
you open to it
tugging intimately at your soul
ending always, too soon
before you want to let go

depositing you back
into ordinary life
with the words still deep
swimming inside you
longing for more