from Pulses

after Steve Reich

gonna [rain]. It’s

no [rain]. Today

the [rain]. He’ll

warm [rain]. Where

of [rain]. Gone

like [rain]. Names

send [rain]. Clouds

fake [rain]. Applause

through [rain]. I

endless [rain]. Every

gather [rain]. Horses

crazy. I felt something, a [presence], I guess. From my ribs

Good morning. Your [presence] is requested down the

billowing smoke mountains. [Presence] of sparrows all along

It seemed the constant [presence] of melancholy was bound

holes in this wood? A [presence] of rot probably,

brother who is not dead. His [presence]. His body is

evening. Lilacs and thyme’s [presence]. Fragrances I’ll

ghosts, apparitions, their [presence] then, marked by not

so what to say of the [presence] of beauty even among

yes, our bodies made a [presence] like twigs burning

astonished by my own [presence], incapable of curve

grew gleeful all my body. [Afternoon] in waiting

this quiet [afternoon], what will I remember of

what kills me, [afternoon] to evening, that space

am I. My other, this [afternoon]: unfolding cloth

her favorite light: [afternoon’s] through window

spent all [afternoon] looking for you in corners

a low-pitched ringing [afternoon]. I can hum

beyond this morning into [afternoon] you and I

forget that [afternoon]. Friction’s burn

beauty in this [afternoon]. A black-lace veil

walked. You: [afternoon’s] clear demarcation

through windows. No [light]. Fuzz of lamps splashed

not too bad up here. Just [light] drizzle. We miss you, all

I do remember every hour’s [light] I’ve walked through

stared at my palms waiting for [light] to whiten them

stays out of the [light] when sunny to avoid getting

I guess this is the [light] you were searching for years

toasted bread. [Light] golden crust. This life affords so

How do we know the fridge [light] stays off when we don’t

vision. The angels emit blue [light], outlines of wind

close to the [light] source so I didn’t notice the shadow I cast

who was it that claimed the [light] would rinse you clean of