–

a brittle back
a restless heart
a race to see
which falls apart

nourishment

before i leave for work,
i weave a cocoon
for my story

i tuck it in a quiet corner
a place forgotten by cats and dust
where it can grow

when i come home at night
i carry it softly to bed
and regurgitate the sun

into its mouth

last minute

Coat check shift from hell
Haven’t written today’s poem
Oh, look, a haiku

utkatasana

i dread becoming a chair
but my teacher insists.
a tree, a crow, a cow, a cat-
just not a chair.

he demands.

i invent a fury and i give it a home in my thighs
he whispers by my ear
“you are making yourself miserable”

yes, well.

rarely have I known any better

This site is moving-

Hi! Do you like my poems? I will be posting more of them along with prose (both fiction and non-) at this website moving forward:

http://www.danielelder.net

If you have a Tumblr account, follow me!

Love!

-Daniel

preacher

not that i am eager
for the reaper’s scythe
to cross the paths of
me and mine

but i have eulogized you,
one and all.

it is a game i play
when rocking back and forth
in subway cribs
or laying in the comfort
of a darkened
room.

(the chapel overflows,
weeping masses pressed into the
doorways, clamoring to mourn
and I! –
I. Am. Speaking.
summoning the grief of
legions out into the
stale, holy air.
my eloquence is
staggering.)

and then i return
to the moment – the F train
or my kitten’s purr or some
conversation that has
faded to a blur
and find
my eyes are wet
my fingers trembling

I know what it will be
to lose you

when you die
my magnum opus will be
ready, waiting.

though i don’t suppose
you’ll be around
to hear it.

animals

around 44th street
the voice came down
over the bus PA-
i could have sworn
it was Mrs. Hadley,
my third grade teacher
with the outsized
knuckles-

“assaulting an MTA Employee is a felony”

you could hear the ruler
in her hands.
so eager.

as if we were all monsters
as if each of us
was giving serious
consideration
to bludgeoning
that beaten-down wheel-spinner,
our charioteer.

as if we needed
to be reminded
that we were animals.

why not play
the sound of
screeching chimpanzees
instead?

i didn’t board this bus
to be admonished,
i was just trying to get
to the Upper East Side.

dry cleaning, briefcases
guilt and regret
we all have our burdens

lay your fears down
somewhere else

our hands are heavy as it is

at long last

at long last
i have befriended the sparrows.
not that we chat
over coffee and cream cheese
but in our silent way
we have grown close.
i must be gentle
when uncrossing my legs
else they scatter like rain
falling home to the sky.

harvest noon

I went walking today
trying to just be here
amidst the thoughts that always come
about tomorrow
dripping with uncertainty.
this year, autumn is taking its time-
for the first time in many moons
I feel like I can harvest
where I’ve been
and who I am becoming. all these colors
soothe me gently.
last year, winter descended swiftly, and the leaves
were shocked from green to red to brown then
withered to the ground.
but I went walking today, swimming in a spectrum-
pink!
yellow!
and even orange came out to greet me.
I laid on my back and watched them waving
while the sun peeked through
and bathed my face in radiance.
how perfect everything is
when we just breathe.

Serra

my friend the poet
lays with me in the center
of our womb
more metallic than either of us
remembers it
but holding us all the same.
we are the swell of a wave
that carries only once
and this moment is so sacred
I begin to want to tame it
freeze it
hold it still.
it is just then
we are joined by a
young boy living in
a continuous laugh
who runs in and around us
and out once again
leaving behind the echo
of freedom