Poems

Purposes

Appertenant to the Unit there's
Bylaws we agree to with
purposes and declarations
and powers and duties.
See Exhibit A if you want to know
But for me I am comforted
in the words and the clarity
A pause from my own wordless unclear aimlessness

Atheneum

The room I'm in, an adjunct to this place
I find myself in this day. A place not
found by any man. Here history is kept and
held and sold. A hush descended here a
hundred years ago and I feel it now.

When buildings are attached they juxtapose
in material and time. The smooth stone face
of this place butts up against some tacky wall,
a joint for lunch for state house workers. A
facade of funky bricks askew with fat
mortar joints and politicians. Back here

from where I sit it's calm. A dresser sits
across from me with tiny drawers I want
to open. Hold on, no one's looking. Quickly
I go and pull. the corner moves, oh no
I've broken it, I think, but no, it's OK
It's supposed to be that way. Above the
drawers there sits a strange unrelated thing
that would be a good doll house for a kid

I can't wander today so I wonder:
Could I use this place for anything like
research? Civil War stuff they say they have.
Is there a story here that would tantalize?