A tablespoon of golden, boiling smoke
the tripping racket of a clock.
It’s like a tap-dance
the darkness ticking, saying, “you,” “you,” “you,”
Now the ears of your ears awake and
begin a joyous barking,
begin to the roar of morning traffic.
It’s nine o’clock in the morning, not an hour for music,
but the world offers itself to your imagination
like fresh mouths, and you’ll actually be able to hear
the secret life of belly and bone
They don’t like to be held back,
work off each other constantly,
call to you like wild geese, harsh and exciting.
Desire, desire, desire.
Drawn from: Gjertrud Schnackenberg, Galway Kinnell, Louise Bogan, Muriel Rukeyser, Gary Snyder, Miroslav Holub, Kapka Kassabova, E. E. Cummings, James Merrill, Brendan Kennelly, Alden Nolan, Mary Oliver, Nina Cassian, Delmore Schwartz, Lucille Clifton, Andrew Grieg, Stanley Kunitz
Patrice Boyer Claeys holds a certificate in poetry from The Writer’s Studio of the University of Chicago. She edited The Journal of Northwestern University and serves as a reader for the Mom Egg Review. Poems have appeared in Found Poetry Review, Mom Egg Review, Ardor, Blue Heron Review, The Avocet and Poet and Artist Chapbook of the Northwest Cultural Council. She is a member of Serious Play, a poetry workshop run by Alice George in Evanston, Illinois.