Northfield Lenox

Red and Bitter

Sunder

For all we have, and have seen
It’s difficult to discern between blue and black, or even if the surface reflects.
Let me in.
Let me in.

Slowly what we think is pure, is starting to show signs of wear
And even with our strength and time
Autumn is coming
The fall is coming

Lift up your hand, prevent the break and bind
Let me in.
Let me in.

Can we forget, if we are only now learning to remember?
All a child had, they still have today.
As crisp as a dipper of water.
Strongly wrapped, however distant.
A rain wet branch in spring, that trembles in the winter.

The wind at night, a silent matter.
Smothered in blankets, before the door is closed.
The warmth that stops our breath.
Only now, a window swings open, and outside comes in.
A rain wet branch in spring, that trembles in the winter.

Red and Bitter

Call the landline
School day
Tomorrow

And when you’re there
The cloth will be threadbare
Red and bitter now

All in one line
Two days
Tomorrow

And in our care
A young child with brown hair
Nothing’s better now

I Love the Sound

Over time we wander
Always with our eyes down
You won’t concede the truth now
It’s not even home ground
I Love the sound

Filling time in wonder
Even with our sides drawn
We don’t receive or take down
When they find our storm drowned
But I Love the sound

I Love the sound  

Light Clothing

In day light
All we ever, and always
See is blue

My one flight
Will be higher than either
Lies or truth

Home! Home!

By day light
All hope, ever believed
May fall through

See us through

Father, can you take it away?
Sister, can you kill it today?

Final Transponder

Up to now
Time trials
Sweet tenuity
The air is purified
Time and tale will now divide

Spin somehow
“Turnstile”
This is all we need
Unheard but clarified
Time is ground and ground is sky

To The Railway Station Crowd Mom

To the railway station crowd, mom
Feel the decay from the years
Somehow
Steel a glance to see your son’s dour eyes
Final call
To leave it all ashore
To the railway station crowd, mom
To the railway station crowd, mom

Created Chairs

In the End We Die into Our Home

One grave, one mistake
Of all the days to fall in your own way
It’s as if you were gone before you were
In all our rain and faded Sunday fields  
Where we once met
In the end we die within our hope

One day, one is great
[In all the ways to call it one more day]
It’s as if you were gone before you were
In all our present time and Sunday fields
where we once went
In the end we die into our home

Needles

Maybe time will follow me
I’m walking through the ordinary trees
A needle

A Needle
Has found an enemy

Maybe time is all we see
I’m watching you in momentary seas
A needle

A Needle
Has found an enemy

Hudson Bay

All follow the day
He went too far away
On the floor is a stone
Or a ray

Hudson Bay

I’m falling away
No
I’m streaming in grey
Not too far
Not today

Boreal

Where all we see from watered eyes
In beauty
In rest
A travelled hinterland remains
It’s ‘light for light’
Our lookalike

Waves have passed
Raking sand and rocks in with the water
Under the water, weigh these stones before they fade
A bear heads North
Fading like a black box
Folding into back time . .  . . .

Sand Bar

Three waves have passed one sand bar.
Three waves
Fear me, fear me
Weigh these

Coming out North bear
Fading

Three waves have passed one sand bar.
Three waves
Fear me, fear me
Weigh these

Coming out North bear
Fading

Samovar

Everywhere she looks up to see
Rain, is overflowing

In the time, all that was needed
Was electricity

Following them into the water
The lake has borders too
They just move
All the time

Lake Bed

She is cold
She is cold in lake waters
Swimming (Diving / Dying)

Everywhere she looks up to see
Rain is overflowing

Papercut Branches

Real
In far places
On tops of tables
Rocks touch water
Squares of glass obscure a clean view
Clean Lines
No Waves
The crack of a tree
A square of paper lies trapped between small branches

Three Line Forecast

Scrolling data, numbers, colours 
Blue, green, red
Red
Warning
High overnight temperatures and hot humid air
May lead to thunderstorms
It is advisable to move steel, cloth and aluminum chairs into a garage
Fold them and place them near old, unused lumber
Old unused lumber

I can hear them over the fence and past the banks
The neighbors in their chairs
Chairs that are made of cloth strips, rusty steel and aluminum rivets
Chairs that scrape the asphalt like coughing drain-spouts

Music is being vented through the single speaker of the television
Songs with no order, no theme
Music is calm traffic from other places
Rain and snow falling on cables
Scrolling data, numbers, colours 
Blue, green, red
Red
Warning
The windchill will be 2000 watts per square meter

Phone Book Angels

The school was built in 1930
Two stories, brick, square, solid.
Go down the stairs: Storage and Cleaning.
Basement within a basement.
In the basement there is a small dirty black door.
Go into the black door, there is the boiler.

Near the boiler, a table.
Oiled rags for cleaning chalk boards.
Vacuum for the brushes, electric vacuum motor.
Electrical vacuum.
Near the boiler, a table.
Basement within a basement
A poorly lit table covered in plastic.
Electrical plastic.

Phone book angels.

(Could you change the station please?)

Near the boiler, a table.
A poorly lit table covered in plastic.
Electrical plastic.
Each page folded, each page pasted, by a child.

Near the boiler, a table.

(Could you change the station please?)

On the table, a chorus of phone book angels,
splattered with spray paint,
flecks and sparkles on Styrofoam heads.
Dirty wool for hair.
Wet wool, covered in snow.
Snow on the window, snow on the floor.
In the basement, a dirty black door.

Phone book angels.
Styrofoam heads
Phone book angels.
Aerosol

Comfort.
A river within a river.

On the table, a chorus of phone book angels,
splattered with spray paint,
flecks and sparkles on Styrofoam heads.
Dirty wool for hair.
Wet wool, covered in snow.
Snow on the window, snow on the floor.
In the basement, a dirty black door.