livorno, april 2007

i am in italy now,
kieran’s apartment
bialetti
answering phones
“pronto”
i am ready.

the novelty
of kettle
and markets
clotheslines,

pocketed
aprons
mountain
tunnels

tender,
i am thinking about things
that will never come back.

traveller
pines,

like sleeping
in a big bed
until a ridiculous
afternoon time
then strawberries
and toast
drink tea
in my pajamas

this is what i want.
the bliss
of walls
of personal
space.

white grass
spread florally
island,
fortress
warm april
a dress
with lace

siesta
the laze
of it, grown
up napping

sun sea,
mediterranean
sometimes i think of peter
and i do not know why.

eventually

000027

000002

don’t forget india.

unpacking,
water stains
things i don’t remember
getting wet.

now, baths
hours
of extra skin
reading about vietnam
world war two
(an attempt at
intentionality)
wondering what
i’ll write in letters
this winter wondering
why i can’t make it home
for kirsten’s wedding if
i would have been
a bridesmaid and what spring
in california
is like this year
and storytelling-
i am making this
up my
narrative
outgrowing
your own character
sometimes
that happens
palms up, steaming
(knowing)
i am full
of something powerful.

exchanging
companions.
now, just big shy
sidewalks
without plants
stalls carts and where
are all the people
scents
and songs litter
animals-
now, it’s quiet

now, victorians
carved in pairs
with porches,
gates overflowing
rosemary

but mostly i’m cold
i don’t have the right clothes.
i am not ready for
autumn in april-
everything’s backwards
and all i have are kurtas
and two pairs
of thin socks
but there are things
returning-
like groceries
shelves an
address a laundry
basket,
keys
the most ordinary
dear things they’re
coming back

lists
and getting started
i’m a toss
in the night dreams
and twists
and aches on hold
i still can’t
really let out
holding air
waiting,

this transition
of body
and after a while
the rest,
eventually
following

arriving in hunua

weeks
now, a homestead
with a very long
driveway
autumn,
her leaves
a single
sheep, there
sideways
in bones, there
in the corner
of a paddock
“don’t look”
she said.

lachlan
lucas, together
wrapped
in boyhood
in a heap
of compost building
tunnels
in tiny
gum boots
adventuring
down towards
a gypsy caravan,
a shepherd’s
hut, arena
garden in squares
growing rhubarb
and roses
the magnolias
confused, blooming
and some things
are lying down
after summer
finished
and tired

the luminaries
buttonholes
rains
doo-hawg’s
the name
of a border collie
and there are four
cats:

minnie
snuffy
ouchie cat
and mr. pants

quiet weekends
head cold baking
marshmallows
planting
bulbs weeding
the artichokes,
the nasturtiums

sitting outside
on steps, coloured
pencils writing
a letter
to nathan john
to new hampshire
that months later
got sent back

little chaos
reoccurrence
house on fire
(still and still)

low and low
i do what i want
no hair, only
a few small
centimeters
left, those blues
they got to me
and anyways now
i’m a real
peach

shades of green
and florals-
wallpaper,
pink wine
rose apples
how they call dinner
“tea”, discovering
the inside
patterns the
perfume
of feijoas

portland maine, april 2012

image
image

cloudy sleep in laundry
my big red pot
simmering
house dress big
sweatshirt napping
sort
of day
and i always overload
the washing machine

o pioneers!
marie and emil
and alexandra belonging
to the land, brave
bicycle
up munjoy hill
how it suddenly opens-
the view, opens
up the way it widens
suddenly to water
to islands and sail
boats
boba tea and
hairs cross
my cheeks
bright.
bright and warm
just me and willa
and clementines

ahmed playing keys
at blue on saturday
“alabama”
“everything happens to me”

telescoping
connectedness
aiden
yesteryear
lark

oh, and
“things
fall apart.”

lucerne, april

castleyellowflowersbig

i have asked spring
please, to keep
me take
me with her
when leaving
wherever it is 
she goes.

first days

mel3

mel2

mel1

cottages all
together, touching
shoulders –
sitting down
in rows named
albion.

iron lacework
brenda on walks
the beginning
of eucalypts,
the beginning
of tree shadows
in general.