Read Ebook: The Book with the Yellow Cover by Wetterau John Moncure

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Ebook has 122 lines and 6118 words, and 3 pages

Portland

On Looking At A Mediocre Painting

Thin paint. No passion. We would agree, I know, although we met only once-- some things are in the blood. Mustard, orange, navy blue around a fake significance.

The loss of Ireland, the 19th century, what were you to do?

Fuck the beautiful, the gifted ; leave the clanging cockroach cold behind ; find the best , live uptown ; die finally.

Well, ashes to ashes then.

But the three of us--your sons, scattered to separate lives-- one way or another we carry you on, this eye, this fist within.

Sean

Every Moment

Sun warms one side of the alley. A young woman smiles at me, surprised by her new beauty. Sex, tenderness, cobblestones. Once I was a Venetian with my last gold coin. Once I broke my vows and left the Order. Arms around her legs, the blue milk crate on which she sits, the kitchen door propped open with a mop--every moment like this.

Portland

For Tamey

Drove over the bridge today, saw the water far below and once again imagined your last jump-- desperation, pain, relief, a twist of gallantry across your face, your final bow to the truth you always told me to tell. You sure as hell saved my life. Tamey, I could never say goodbye. I miss you. I wish you could have played with Finnegan.

Rough cloth, the gathering of giant ferns woven together, supple, bending, energy moving up your spine, mind dancing in the night, Palm Tree Exercise.

Kailua

The Early Ones

Black night turns dark blue, a wedge of lighter blue, dim gray. Outposts on the beach become aware of each other: narrow stones aligned to the east, grouped around a driftwood stick sixteen inches high. In an hour-- sheltered by grass, overhanging edge of the continent-- they will cast long thin shadows; they will be first, brave against the day.

Warm Sake

Warm sake, sashimi maguro, blood red slices on a wooden block, light green chicory, pickled ginger. Outside: harbor ice rocking in the tide, translucent, thin dark edges swirling in black water.

Shiki Portland

Leaving Finn

Las Cruces at dusk, necklace on the desert. Back in Tucson, Finn recovering from surgery, sweat on his nose, trying to smile, whispering, "Have a good trip, Dad."

Late Breakfast

Red nails, gold cigarette, young pampered mouth, hair drawn back, a sense of having reached her limits, a perfect twenty-two. There was a moment when she chose all this.

I must begin again, without shame.

Wailana Coffee Shop Honolulu

Spring Dream of SueSue

Perfectly quiet a trout lets me hold him.

You surface laughing, dark hair, blue shirt unbuttoned.

March

Lament For Paul

Scratching your beard, excited, "Fantastic," you said about the Beatles' new record. The next night you played your own shy songs, surprising us. You were crushed beneath your car, but your songs, Paul, I heard them. We all heard them.

Woodstock

For Coyote

I think of you drinking, dancing, unable to sleep, reading until first light, a blanket drawn around your shoulders, afternoons, working your wheel until the time to mingle with true hearts, raise glasses, hug, laugh, help as you can. We are all dying, slower or faster, but it hurts to watch. And out of the numb exuberant wreckage of your days come these raku pots-- graceful open shapes, lines freely scratched into the clay, deep turquoise, copper glazes, extravagant, surprised, too beautiful for tears.

After Months

Shifting unstable air, patches of light, raindrops standing on the candy red gas tank of a Kawasaki 750. Coming down harder, bouncing off the seat, dripping from the tips of black rubber handgrips, tach speedometer needles resting on their zero pegs, twin mirrors focused back.

October, Maine

Fortune Cookie

Wrecking Ball, Commercial Street

Salmon streaks of pulverized brick, white pigment, tar, nicked and scarred in every direction, patina of blows on a mute obdurate interior. Six weeks I carried it until the beautiful surface cast off, weightless. The iron opened from the inside out and like a new bell began to sing.

For Elena

The Polynesian Navigator

Swells current, sky rimmed, shell on a stick chart promise of land, alone and singing.

Kahuna's Way

Twisting through high cane, silver green, tossing in the trade winds, toward the mountain wall dark green jagged, deep shadows where a warrior prayed, ancient silence, Kahuna's way, beyond King Sugar and the city that is coming.

Hulemalu Road Kauai

Like beautiful fish moving slowly through coral, they eddy through the library, dark hair, bright dark eyes, the wisdom of their mothers lying gravely on their faces; ready to love, to stay, they flick away on currents deep and proper.

For Catherine, someday in a quiet hour, wondering what is possible

When I hold your mother while she holds me, all that was, is; the future comes moment to moment, complete. For this, salmon swim their river, elephants remember, wild geese call out at dusk. I fought and risked, trusted and betrayed. How can you find another before you find yourself, traveling the heart's way, alone, unsure, knowing only that you must?

Rage's Place

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