Some poetry gleaned while Collating Smatterings of Memoirings (1) / From 1987: “For Nitza”

spg from1987


“What’s this? A poem?
“You’re working much too hard.”
“This isn’t work, it’s poetry.”
“I hope you’re writing about me.”
“Not tonight, my dear.
“Well, now you’ve asked, maybe I will.”

Thank you for the hot tea on your way to bed thank you for
my electric blanket thank you for being there, loving,

mother dove
girlfriend love

you know: though all my memories
of scenes do blank
this I joyingly know

you are around me inside me beside me
also when I don’t remember


soft crystal
warm diamond
earth of my tree, tree of my earth
tho not
sea of my sky, nor sky of my sea

for my sea is humanity & my sky is its sky
as they’re yours,

in this cell
of the world to come.


let me tell you about the world to come let me
the world to come is the world that’s coming
now. Ev
ry now.
It star
ts with
& not
looking                        here
back in                        we’re
anger or
in angst
or seek
ing the A
lpha or O
mega. It
begins with the closed beginning open ended B_e_t_h of B_e_r_e_i_s_h_i_t_h_, G_e_n_e_s_i_s
which we’ve turned around, heading east as the earth rolls
westward, ho!

is where

going into
the world
that’s coming

& that’s all
I want to say
about it


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