Prayer for my oldest teachers

Prayer for my oldest teachers

I don’t mind the mess that comes from pressing hard, from scribbling over scribbling to cross things out (O, but I hate erasable ink)

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The Charm of 5:30 by David Berman

Poem like a hallucinogenic mushroom, to be memorized and recited in lieu of eating it, to assist you when you finally rub the bottle right, so you don’t freeze

Pray that it were otherwise, but the hard work of life isn’t in the tapping of the true thought, but in the building of a pipeline to deliver the goods

Prayer for my oldest teachers

Prayer for those flying solo on jet planes ascending and descending through turbulence reminded of the ghost on a bicycle ghost-riding stairs

Prayer that you, you, will receive such a gift when next you visit Eatonville, Florida

The human palimpsest’s prayer

Where I-94 delineates suburban Bloomington from suburban Richfield

The other magicians will kill me for revealing this

There is the hiding, here is the seeking

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Minneapolis, MN