“Two span, two span to a woman…”
—Ezra Pound, Canto XLVII
Say what you want about my absent-
mindedness—we both know a capacity for vacancy
is what you came for.
The two fledgling robins beside the toppled nest
beat like bloody wet-feathered hearts.
In Spanish one can say, se me pierden las llaves –
the keys lost themselves to me.
We rehearse the items
of your relentless inventory
that have lost themselves to me,
at the event-horizon of my reservoir of absence.
I don’t hear my own pulse in my ears
until I have seen the mother, worm in the dark hollow
of her mouth.
I can see how tired you are, your name practically
falling right off.
Don’t talk to me about measure.
You try knowing how much nothing
the body of the world can bear.
You try carrying it in your mouth.
“Nest” is from Little Arias (New Issues Poetry & Prose, 2015).