First You Have to Row a Little Boat
by Marcel Aime Duclos

Awakening the Buddha
where the sidewalk begins,
I don't want to talk about it.

Sailing alone around the room–
the painted bed–
promise or poison.

Grocery shopping with my mother:
the creation of consciousness–
eros on crutches.

Radical hope:
the brain that changes itself
bird by bird.



 


Return to:

[New] [Archives] [Join] [Contact Us] [Poetry in Motion] [Store] [Staff] [Guidelines]