Brian Teare Poems

how a birch shirks its skins : strange
grain of the language of prayer : to disturb
words addressed to where God is is
what writing is : alphabet alive beneath
...

house of each sentence endlessly hinged, house of each phrase
opened elegy
entirely latches, exactly latches, hasps, proliferant, endlessly opened, of
doors,
...

interval from felt
to string a struck
ear's the soul's seat
set ringing —easy
...

Now the rain
Now the seams put in evening
Now the tree seeming shakes out
of felt unfolds cleanly
...

There is no word can hold a chord no analogy fits ear
forte, into eye
a stanza a piano inside it would stifle, would rife with
hands fitting felt to phoneme, syllables to hammers, signs
...

so it came to me to
carry the abandoned
mattress to the attic
...

thought begins as small floral bowls : they hold greens—broccoli stalks,
chopped kale—against
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Nothing at dusk, lord, but dust
and road to keep it. The field kneels
under white pines, umbra the edge
to whom this is addressed :
...

sent for you last week dogwoods
a swansong white flowers
on whitewater weather continues
...