John Tritica - "Residence..."
from Residence in the High Desert
by John Tritica
9
Fluency in change is a book
that tosses hours about.
In morning, light snow on the berm.
San Mateo & Zuni, heavy traffic.
The conversation of rain and birds
sound texture release.
6 AM: I stand on one leg and listen:
Course times water is an integral sinking.
How to undermine the local routine.
Covered the peach tree three nights
against late winter frost.
When moments are surrounded by
unpredicted movement
Sight passes impasse.
As context meets cortex funnel
clouds against the bright sky.
Blooms set lunar night freezing
aphids devour last year's kale.
Not the thing itself, speculation on the thing.
Arms stretched out, you take in all in wavering gaze.
Strands the daylight, clears the view.
Write around the clock
linked sight wishes an accomplice.
To crack a jump in perception.
Steady plot, overhead elm seeds green
bushels to germinate, be weeded.
Chick Corea's "Spain," cabernet, baklava, French roast.
Not place alone determines relations
spacial tendencies.
Optimal light two days prior to the equinox.
About change a book of fluency
lines hours and tosses.
11:30 PM, the cats outside, you sleep.
Should not stay the night wake longer
but a short walk outside, the stars blurred.
Lilacs still tight budded.
Aphids on broccoli, columbine, daisies
tenderest portions.
Practice walking the house silently
so that power's in lightness.
To stretch one centimeter longer.
Already apricots the size of little finger tips.
To survive cold wind, to look after ripening.
You persist in banging on the radio.
To travel the capillaries' far current
the cherry tree's first blossom ever.
Suddenly to follow scents not yet present.
We play on the floor during the reading.
The port's trickle on tongue and gums.
10:45 PM two days after the equinox
a restless wind purls.
Anticipates Spanish broom, red valerians,
needed rest.
7:30 AM in a cold metal room to teach.
Tumbleweeds blow with traffic north on I 25
into little bits rushing on the shoulder.
Never unusual wind spring tours the storm
bright moisture.
The sound from San Mateo & Zuni fiercer.
Remove back chimes to ensure right sleeping.
Copyright © 1995 by John Tritica
Light and Dust @ Grist Mobile Anthology of Poetry.