James Cook

for friends

Cute poems with eyes and hips just so you know what I’m talking about

Several knives in the drawer hidden from cutters protect the children

Ancient coffee grounds uncovered with northern grandmothers

Hibernians and Normans walk the boulevard for a closer look at the diminishing masts

Foreign born & all their knowledge from radio waves the size of the smaller states arriving nightly with clock alarms

Ear harbors criminal intentions of men, women, and all their imaginary young lovers

We call that static wheras they call it white noise they know the streets wheras we look for landmarks but end up with our nose in the map’s index

A tired gravel road brought you my news wondering who was the first lover of the second growth forest

So the red squirrels were monkey-like and led us to the cliffs not of ourselves don’t say that

So happy that I’d like to hold all your hands but then I realize we don’t do that kind of thing anymore if we ever did

I’ve heard rumors of acute agency & all her winks I’d like to sleep with them too

Cry for beauty if that’s your thing I’m not making this up but my two minds are hoping to shut each other down

What kind of box are you opening do you really want to hear those voices I know you’re aware that they’re not strictly speaking in the bottle

It comes down to doors is what the poets tend to say standing in them walking through them opening & shutting them then there are the kinds with keys & bolts & such those provide the most mystery what’s behind that door are they fucking & so those doors are most desirable

Have you given up writing manifestos not that it’s a big deal but the park was filled with squirrels & you were the one smoking I knew it was you

The portrait of the seals in Charlie’s eye is one of her finest works you’ll never forget it & will find yourself seeing seals in others’ eyes I know this because they like the west coast too

That string tied to your belt loop I’ve got the other end did you feel that almost as good as touching you don’t be offended please

Six am will be a different life help me chase it off what’ll work a fan yeah a fan’ll work no a lawn mower but we don’t own one of those so it’ll have to be the radio filled with the small sharp waves of morning

The cove is empty while filled with razor clams no I haven’t locked them in the drawer with the knives let the kids play get all muddy what good is it to live along a tidal river if you stay inside who said it wasn’t me

Shows off command & poise by stepping across the atlas like she does but I wonder is she lonely & how would she express it if she were

I don’t know if this adds up to anything wake up next hour one-two-three you are good friends & smiled a lot today I liked that & like remembering it now I could go on remembering it & tomorrow someone will ask me what are you smiling about & I’ll tell them cross my heart hope to die stick a needle in my eye

Managed to mention the trip down and the coming home but left out all the details about the time spent at the beach so the audience imagines the birthday suits leaving little to the imagination that’s how poetry works is what I’d tell my students if you were one of them

The power is in the word & what it does to me which is make me weak-kneed but hungry all the mouths of the world etc. is the dream you left me with I bet you took the dream with you too exactly why you packed the mirror