The dark book

In the dark book
a cornfield, flat like a fence
but plump in cartoon nighttime
we cruise past on slow bicycles
having been in that forest
a long time, long enough
to dress and undress and redress
will there be a pool or a pond
what shoes shall we wear
or shall we go shoeless
to our borrowed casket,
two guests and then too many
it’s a vast lake
black water, cold, black trees
a broad empty plaza
trash skitters off to the side
low horns, banging cans
a warren of dusty rooms
shadow, grit, somebody
something is coming
the outside watches you
nowhere but in.

Net

hokusai boats tago bay fuji cropped

Places on the shore to go
flat out in the sun, the beach–
are those trees or people
traps or tents?
The gauntlet that a village is–
all talk and not knowing.
Beneath the sand–a net
for the unsuspecting.
There at the edge of the forest:
a place to go into to hide.

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Hokusai, Tago Bay http://www.metmuseum.org/collections/search-the-collections?ft=hokusai+tago+bay