Perihelion: An Online Journal of Poetry and Mayhem
The Santa Cruz Issue


Green is for World


for blowing seeds
for a rhyme I’ve sung to figs
long distance crossing sticks
for being in synch
in a car or over       
for the temperature of the poem
tucked in her ears
will generate in the hand
for structures in leaves
getting thrown
off the page
being the first to think
you must be in possession
of a moment--
simple flowers for
simple prose

I can’t remember
if I believe
an underground works
for water                                          
a city waits
for days
stars are miniature habits
they do not recover
from disaster
I will not fight hard
but harder
for a writer’s
handmade October
I’ve never done this before
holding accountable the air
craving details from the future
like lace or life in the arm