Jac Nelson - Five Poems
B L U E
I h a t e s o me t h i n g wh e n I e n c o u n t e r i t
O n e n i g h t I c l o s e t h e b l i n d s b e c a u s e
t h e g o d d a mn s t r e e t
a n d t h e s o u n d o f s o me t h i n g i n h e r e
B l u e b u t i n s o me wa y I
——i n e x p l i c a b l e
——r e c o g n i z e a s u n n a t u r a l
I N H E R I T
H o w t o me a s u r e wh a t t h e r e ’s n o g e t t i n g d o wn f r o m
l i k e mo t h e r wa s n e v e r a mo t h e r a n d k e e p s n o t b e i n g
a mo t h e r
b u t wo n ’t g o a wa y t o d a y t h e wi n d c a u s e d me t o o p e n my e y e s
A n d t h e t e n t a t i v e b a r e n e s s o f s n o w b l o wi n g s i d e wa y s
——s h e wa s o u t t h e r e wa t c h i n g
——t h e s h a v e n b i r c h a n d I
T H E Y T H E M
is They any way?
to split off
infuriates keeps cre
-ating categories
The mean all
containers are me
-an all gestures contain
They splits
off from me
meaning
They over there
They that one
T H E Y T H E M
It is not a privilege
The meat of the grapefruit
The young cat over time
tenuous lost to th bone
tough meat tough cookies
They are willing and are
not willing to have it on
th other inside
inside of the mouth
——to chew it——
to wrench from
it something anything
BOUGAINVILLEA
Owing to botanic mysteries–––
they are, right?
–––my feet or
whatever idiom dragging
–––yellowing, curling, the
bougainvillea leaves.
I’ve not totally managed
to keep things
flush, through a lonely time
especially.
I’ve told my father nothing.
Let the silence
almost
swallow it.
There, there
the gateway of the throat.
in
–––numbers, tens at least
–––a family.
My nd ents
saying
picture window
the n glected garden there,
but it’s time.
They pick at their meal
like sand fleas.
What’s under
the eaves of this house?
It is not as
I once thought
a gift
for someone no matter what
to b
yo rs
because of blood or
something like it,
not always.
Frank O’Hara!
You were so alive I think!
I wake up broke
and gray
and afraid
It’s me