foxglove

poems

marc paltrineri

1

thenI waswhole still.

—Paul Celan

2

for kathleen

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

[foxglove your body is]........................................................................6

[foxglove I eat you]..............................................................................7

[foxglove is the heart]..........................................................................8

[foxglove you give the wind goosebumps.........................................9

[foxglove it's funny you say]..............................................................10

[foxglove I am not a nature poet].....................................................11

[foxglove each night through the window].....................................12

[foxglove is this a crisis].....................................................................13

[foxglove I lied I am]..........................................................................14

[foxglove is the owl who]...................................................................15

[foxglove is it true nothing]...............................................................16

[foxglove one by one the pigeons are].............................................17

[foxglove it's still early].......................................................................18

[foxglove is love a transparency].......................................................19

[foxglove if you'd like your arms to]................................................20

[foxglove at all costs]...........................................................................21

[foxglove look at these icebergs].......................................................22

[foxglove is the]....................................................................................23

[foxglove is a tree a linen]...................................................................24

[foxglove in this world the world].....................................................25

[foxglove so what the clouds may]....................................................26

[foxglove my hair from the sky].........................................................27

[foxglove this house is not empty].....................................................28

[foxglove at the edge of the]..............................................................29

[foxglove in the mountains]................................................................30

[foxglove it is morning we].................................................................31

[foxglove what day is]..........................................................................32

[foxglove today I am drinking]...........................................................33

[foxglove a tree is not stupid].............................................................34

[foxglove is so tired].............................................................................35

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5

FOXGLOVE

your body ismy favorite shadeof animala fierce of lightrubbed darkand purring

6

FOXGLOVE

I eat youlike the open palm of my handopen the baldnesscries out what will theneighbors the dumpstersostriches think ostriches run at a speed of ____ miles per hourI will learn the figure laterthat is fast but not as fastas a cloud which is the fastestliving creaturethis land has to offerit takes many shapes and you canlasso right onto it the cloudI mean if you’ve got a lassoand ride it downinto the valleywhere your heart's covered in dewhear the clouds cry outthe way a cloud cries outwhen in heat or hungryout there in the godforsaken distance wherethere’s a wall and a kitchen tableso rest your head uponthat kitchen table it is a doorgo through it

7

FOXGLOVE

is the hearttruly vacantand by that I meanfree are theserooms still hauntedand do we notstill love themthese ghostswho come tosleep on the floorbut leave small bits ofclothingin our sheets

8

FOXGLOVE

you give the wind goosebumpswhen you say those things grayhood slipped over tuesdaythe trees are different let’shave a party and the fortressdon’t invite the fortressit will rain and the gray will soakour pants the way the blank soaksthrough the window on this firstcold night of the centurythis new one we’re inventingand what a pity we can’t keepthe colors what a pitysuch a stupid thing to say

9

FOXGLOVE

it’s funny you saywe have teeth andback to sleep againI steal this for a poembecause it’s truetoday is the first dayof flannel-chestedoctober and they are fillingthe streets sellingapples and having babiesgrinding apples into juiceand we can marvel atthe gummy babies we caneat three donuts eachI think I’ll kiss youon the mouth nowwake you up to say aren’t youglad we have teethlet’s eat some appleseven if our gums bleed

10

FOXGLOVE

I am not a nature poetfoxglove no really I am nottrees and clouds theysurround me you shouldsee it where I livethere are mice in the wallshere my trust in windowsis growing thinfoxglove I am nota nature poet I can’t help itleaves are falling on my headif I lived in the city perhapsI’d write about city thingsmetrocards and chinesenewspaper mixed up in mybed and the streets would seemslick with the reminderwe are vulnerable to thewhims of concrete how soonit might flood or rise against us dear god like sequoiaslook at those buildings come

11

FOXGLOVE

each night through the windowa train passes through our sleepingand is gone in the morningwe remember nothing but can tellfrom the sheets a wholecorridor of hours stolenyears of adventure goneeach day we wake something newis somehow older more tiredbut not tonight tonight I stay up waitingfor the walls to say when thethief of dreams approachesI must stay sharp and for thisI drink absinthe not because I'm thirstybut because it glowsand I am readyready for the past to come barrelingfor you I am readyto defend us our futurebut just as easilythe train goes through methe train travels right throughI am no more than a marshy fogwhat can I do in this roomto protect us theseare not my hands my pen myclothes this isnot just a love poemat leastthis much is true

12

FOXGLOVE

is this a crisisthe geese are leavingpeople are campingout on wall streetthe sound of windforms an exclamation pointand it’s embarrassing thewasted potential of theblue boat by the green pondsmell of trash from the sunsetfoliage of birdswhere do the leaves gooff to suffer is it a placewith cell phone coverageis there green stuffon the waterdoes it take couragenot to care perhaps courageis not the right wordwhat would you ratherbelieve the myth of plutoor the friendly goliath andwhere do you see your-self in the next one ortwo thousand years

13

FOXGLOVE

I lied I amnot immortalthere is nosuch thing aszombies at leastnot like thatI am gladsummer is overthe leaves are stirringin theirpaper coffinswe can step I am sorryI will diein all honesty I’drather be flyingin a boat across theocean without a wave of hubris orblade of grassto stop us to put us in our place

14

FOXGLOVE

is the owl whoflew beside us fromthe city to leafless nowhere there are thingsalong this worldwho look like forestssomeone sharpenedinto pencilswhat kind of bluewould you call that blueinside our bodies the skyflying through usowls and interstateswe too have veinsand scenic vistas

15

FOXGLOVE

is it true nothingneeds to be writtennot this not that sunriseit just comes all on its ownstaying in bed riding through itthe morning makes it possibleto see through everythingis here alreadythe nothing else gettingbrighter toosquint of sun through the windowa plane says you’re not so poorsummer is over so cross it outjust look at this there’s noneed to save itfoxglove the heart isbiodegradableand our lungsbreathe forever in our sleepwhen we're eatingfolding laundrywhat we need is alreadyshow me your secretsI promise I won’t touch a thing

16

FOXGLOVE

one by one the pigeons areleaving the roofsaid once the roof of abordello nowpregnantwith mattressesthe ghosts nowlie down onlooking up theysee only angelslovers of angelsbut why Idon’t believe inwhy and wheredo they want to goperhaps to the city the city known simply as the

17

FOXGLOVE

it’s still earlybut the world isturned off nowjust us andwinter bluemelting into the carpetthis snow is usedbut honestjust enough soI can see through youthe lights insidethe sky following uslike gold watchesdoubt flashesfrom that other sideof the room

18

FOXGLOVE

is love a transparencyprojector is the sunher fingerprint fits thisdescription if thesewalls were glasswould we get anything donefoxglove seestheir eyes and theireyes wanderokay take out yourbooks nowtoday’s topic is jealousywrite this down

19

FOXGLOVE

if you’d like your arms tovanish hold them stillvery still against your bodythey will vanish just like glassyour thoughts they will thank youfor letting more light inand your guests will bow remarkingamongst themselveshow much it feels likea weight’s been lifted and it hasthey are right but be carefulthis trick applies alsoto the heart if you stay stilllong enough your heartwill become windowstwo windows on the same floorof separate apartments in separate citiesin which two strangersturn off the lights to watch the stormthrowing a sheet overtheir separate cities their separatehearts withpretty much the same view

20

FOXGLOVE

at all costspronouns must beavoidedthey leavepaper-trails to theblood-source poacherswant your skin willkill you lined up at themall to get itlet's not speakof you just golike the spirit bear goessuccinctly into theforest belike the black bear goput on your whitebear’s suit

21

FOXGLOVE

look at these icebergsthey surround usthis is deeper than we’veever gone beforewhite purewhite seems more blackthan morningnow that it’s allwe have to eatour friends the shipsun have left usnow we must wait witheveryday float oneinch closer to the landwe used to believe in a worldwithout mirrors where the streetsdid not all head north

22

FOXGLOVE

is thesnow unmeltingthe snowis the bedunemptyingthe darkin which thesewindowsmake their ownlight rubbingdawn againstdawn in thisstatic I sawsparksin this silenceI could’ve swornI heard musiccomingfrom the cellarin your ears

23

FOXGLOVE

is a tree a linenis a goose down comfort-er never diesfilled with childrenis the end of the nighta bridge to go througha tunnel under an oceanunder blankets getting readyfor work a ceremonyin which you float nakedlit by lamp the four cornersof the moon in the stilldark day tell me what wereyour dreams like andhow do they build themthe tunnels beneath the seaand is it safe nowto open the coversis it cold enough to sayplease stay

24

FOXGLOVE

in this world the worldis movingwrites you emailsfrom a new statein this worldyou are no border animmigrant inyour hometownthere are no objectsthey call me by namemy name meaninghis name in this worldshadows left in thesnowmelt of something buriedof heirloom warmththis world insidethis world is a pralinewhite and I toowas in this worldand then I wasn’t

25

FOXGLOVE

so what the clouds maynever understand youno language or beddingto tuck them in solet it go the worldis not only dangerousit is a place in the grassfor furnished things to wallowalong the news roadgarbagemen swinging trash toclassical music what was ityou said about logicand war how we rhymewith the deadand not their stripmallslet’s not talk anylonger the stories aretrue but how do wetranslate the howlingof dogs with distant sirensis this better than chopin

26

FOXGLOVE

my hair from the skyis fallingin black ribbons the riverscrawl an elderly pacewho is it that guards mychimneys through which firesof slept-in morningsescape the skythat is somewherebig I’ve never beenis there a message for meno message for me in theair I am okay withthis though it's scaryto see air going intoone of its ragesto hear the glass ofmilk against the sinkwhy don’t you somedaywe’ll have childrenbetter not fuck up the worldis not a gameyou are not late to practiceyes we knowsummer is overand when we give ourselvesback to the grassesit will be monday alwaysmonday weare not quitters no wejust want to go home

27

FOXGLOVE

this house is not emptythis sky is not cleanthousands are crawlingwithin us who are thesewasps come searchingfor wasp deathat these windowsthrough a hole in the moonlightthey must have got inpilgrims looking fornew oceans andby oceans I mean breatha purer reflection of the self ornet worth sets the wing songaflutter there are othernames we can call itthe moon a diamond missingfor thirty yearsin the floorboardswas found yesterday eveningturned into a star

28

FOXGLOVE

at the edge of theocean you are onlyhalf asleepin borrowed sleepclothes and borrowed fogcome this farto meet mewhoever he is ofwhom are we speakingin waves and phonestalking everydaythrough walls andoceans to believe in love no as the tide believes in grief second hand put on these new clothesthe old clothes haverotted in the forestwhere the forestgrows into the sea

29

FOXGLOVE

in the mountainsthe mountains lookonward andblue up closeI touch them thesoft flesh of yourclouds kissthe hawk whoswoops down before us who when we swoopedbecame a pantheron that ants-come-marching road

30

FOXGLOVE

it is morning wemade it through those dreamsthe mice didn’tget us hanging we placeour food in a basketsun march in the treesit is not really mondaynot march not really treesyou should go home now butI will miss youwhen you ask howwill we make ithow midnight thin arethese walls

31

FOXGLOVE

what day istoday yes todayis good fridayand I'd like to find yousomething in spanishjust to say howthe sky is wide awake and fuzzyred things are appearingon the tips of thetrees you’re at work nowand I wish you weren'tand if you weren'tmaybe we could walkto the water and watchsome tugboats for a whileand on the other shorethe shipyard therein all its armor and lookthere goes the bridge seeit is rising and perhapsthis explains perfectlywhat I am feelingan ocean liner passingslow as a building through the doorof the harbor out towardthat open space called the heartor how do you say it el mar

32

FOXGLOVE

today I am drinking flowers it's just thatkind of dayand when you arrivein your gondola ask meneed a lift we riseto the top of a wildand we are just aslorca put it mountainslooking beyond mountainspast where the seais melted downsomething gleamsI am not perfect you arenot dreaming those twosuns lassoed inside that bed-like cloud are actually twohearts beatingwe may each take one homeshow them to friends thoughthey won’t believe usoh well I say a flowerfor your hairgoes a long way instead

33

FOXGLOVE

a tree is not stupidit grows where it growswe talk inside these branchesknow nothing like the sunthe sun is a hammockit devours us and is gonewhere there is lovethere is a tree and a treeknows everything it isalready homelet’s move to the countrya country neither of usare from

34

FOXGLOVE

is so tiredfoxglove reads thepopol vuha strange story todrift off to unlatch usfrom this worldjaguar nightin which we're humansmaking human love asanimals also do

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