ST.
CROIX ARTBARN
WRITERS
GUILD
Kelly Green
Collection of Writings
Copyright
© Protected by stcroixartbarn.com
TEMPORARY
OWNERSHIP
Maple ballerinas
in white leotard
practice
deep in the woods
hold their
pose as we pass
a tease
before performance
The road
targets Molly to pay the toll
one hind
leg for this winter
she no
longer runs through morning
to find
out who we are
Impassive
as a god on the wing
the daily
eagle never lets us down
a solitary
deer checks the registration
on our
loaner Chevy.
WILDLIFE
REFUGE
There are
at least three ways to understand this sign.
The obvious
one is meant for creatures that can't read.
Then again,
you've been considered a form of
wildlife
by more than a handful of people,
you just
might be in the right place.
But the
life you've led hasn't been tame.
Perhaps
this represents a new start,
an opportunity
to tone it down a bit.
Any way
you look at it this sign requires careful study
so sit
down next to your car out of the wind
and get
to it.
THE GREATER
EVIL
The swallows
are madness
one inch
closer would kill the cat
their drunken
hunter swirl
bears the
design of
closing
time in November
They must
be eating bugs
this devil
dance around the house
makes us
duck inside
Tiny brains
scare me daily
in feathers,
uniform,
cassock
and surplice,
boardroom
or truck
Sheer numbers
outweigh sense
but I hope
they keep eating
nothing's
more insane
than mosquitoes.
SITAR AND
HAMMERED DULCIMER
Look at
our bed our platform our
leak into
Shakespeare
a bawdy
bounce my country wench
Your hands
in clay and basement
the cat
and I up near the roof where
cardinal
and thrasher aim
oriole
and hummer into
sweet-tooth
battle at the feeder
Why you
want
what others
refuse
continues
to save my life
your courage
to mount an
apartment
rescue the
birth of
my new words
Don't show
me now
get back
downstairs
leave me
on top of birch
At the moment
I'd rather
listen to this music
and write
about it instead.
I WIN AGAIN
I scream
sunrise at
fuchsia
washing barn
the lake
collars my neck
silver
coat protection from hunters
on the
prowl for annual blood
Our horse
chestnut cellos the sky
loud enough
to scratch my mind
languid
land outside the door
on its
way in
Neighbor
children come for love
denied
them at home
pull like
wrestlers for an answer
whitewash
me in parenthood I've
denied
since age sixteen
The street
you walk in town
hangs inside
my chest
I pull
its string to bring you home.
WITNESS
Your eyes
drop suitcases
recognize
home
tiny elevators
locked
down in the lobby
after the
day's itinerant use
The tasks
that pull your
fingers
like hungry children
finished.
BLEND
A wall of
birch
conquered
by snow
surrenders
to definition
A path devoured
in pond
the blended
spectacle
of almost-taupe
A maple
totemically disfigured
by dinner-plate
fungus and a
ravenous
army of
pileated
woodpeckers
A black-and-white
dog
burns so
hot that
falling
through the ice
means nothing
A couple
hand in hand
thatched
into landscape
step by
step.
Three P.M.
Schubert
keyboard-transformed
basement
the obsessed
and tortured
serve us
well
The piano
a scalpel
risen from
earth
to separate
emotion from blood
until both
run clean
through
intended channels
In the
face of
unspecified
internals
three remedies:
Sleep
Walk
Music
I must
try to remember.
THE LIQUID
OF DECISION
Your hands
glow if rubbed enough
a contact
high with earth
without
the dogma of knowledge
A lake
enough a forest more than
beckons
you from capture
green people
wait in the trees
To parallel
our folly
across
this brilliant sphere
a human
opens its stomach
disturbs
the intact viscera
for temporary
wealth
Drugged
beyond conclusion
the naive
beast escapes
the ruined
dream of stars
One-to-one
our species
always
works best
but cannot
extend this courtesy
to our
forgiving host
Your hands
a weapon and cure
the liquid
of decision
to hold
or wash away.