someone’s mask
crumpled in the field
pink primrose
by James Brush
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
someone’s mask
crumpled in the field
pink primrose
everyone hoped
we would recover
but we got worse
& stronger
when the daylight wanes
& the moon grins
we are this and that—
blue with time
& forgery
we are trees tangling
between the shadow
& the sky
the wind tugs
at leafing trees
how they dance
twisting
in the sky’s grip
a new day
traffic cones & trees
in the fog
so many leaves
high in this bare winter tree
cedar waxwings
the grackles opened
like gates in the trees
shadow birds, eyes glistening
you could almost imagine
these noisy shades
abandoning tangible birds,
parking lots and steel dumpsters
in their odyssey through
suburban woods,
clacking and creaking
like machines or clocks
ticking away the last
hoarse seconds of winter.
This is from my book Birds Nobody Loves. It seemed fitting to dig this one out today as we come around to another March. The 13th looms large here as that’s the day Texas started shutting down a year ago. I never would have imagined I’d have to be going to work in a face shield and an N95 a year later.
On another note, I’ve been tinkering with this old site and made new book landing pages that include videos, interviews, collaborations and related stuff. Putting it together, it was surprising to see where these birds have flown the past 9 years. Here’s the page for Birds.
Welcome, March.
second dose
winter rages deep
inside me
I can’t find New Mexico anymore
west there’s just the Llano Estacado
in my dream airplanes vulture overhead
do you see the fighter planes going by?
this twisted road of cloud and movies
half-remembered could be x-rays winding
through our DNA tying us up in books
we don’t believe in (doesn’t mean
it isn’t happening) we take our complaints
to the bureau of broken drums, pound
the chain link fence around the reactor
it rattles with ice and meltdown
The greyhounds navigate ice like arthritic giraffes—splay-legged and strange—their speed left indoors today.
icy trees
creaking in the wind
whispered threats
rolling blackouts
how the wind howls
& the candles dance
on the radio Lizzo
feeling good as hell