Anthony Robinson

GROUNDHOG DAY

       for Ezra Tishman

Back porch February and we're here
again.  Tangle of brambles creeps over the fence
brandishing dried-up blackberries.
The sun's station:  45 degrees, due west,
called soon home by the hills and the sea. 

I read you poem after poem.  The morphine
levels you out, afternoon at the back of your skull.
The scar is shaped like a Hebrew "chet," a door
dimly lit around the edges you let me touch.

I read you Hopkins, then the essay on Projective Verse,
its insistence on body and breath.
I don't have the heart to tell you this --
but I think Charles Olson's a nutcase.

Breathe in, breathe out. Your new wife
brings you dinner.  The shadows fall long.
And these poems, they are the day's news.
In. Out.  In, out: the gangly line remains
a gangly line.  And time, well, that's our blessing.

Date of Birth: October 10, 1972 Location: Eugene, Oregon Occupation: Teacher Email: antrobin@clipper.net Website: http://www.canaryriver.com Publications: Chase Park, CrossConnect, SLIDE, Samsara Quarterly, Spinning Jenny, Snowmonkey, Exquisite Corpse, etc.

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