Deep River Pedagogy

You ready yourself
for the restless transmission.

This week: Mr. Wieners.
I'll spread the word.

So you turn to supplication,
this filial work.

Words snaked from the drain
on John Street.

Wadded, casting for lucidity.
Lucinda. Le Rayon Vert.

There exists a rooting behavior
in poets present from birth.                                                                                   

An intrepid set of squirrels
set up in the stairwell.

We gathered to read
her words to conjure

that flow of timbre & page
as something physical

laced between us, each poem
a way home that forces you

to cut across. You see
the tilted skull now,

don't you? It's in every song.
It moves to give us up.

Do not think you have
squandered any of it.

It is weirdly here
on the threshold,

a little soft.
Another night

you would move a chair
to the back stoop to make

room for some music.
The possibilities of form.

Why else does one do it?
Sit for a spell or slip off

early. It's a potluck so
bring what you have