Heir Apparent

Issue #47 March 2019

A Face Is Green | Michael Burkard

                Chagall said

that when he painted he was

"consciously unconscious."

A face is green,

the sun looks like a feeling.

The FBI kept a file on Chagall.

How strange and bright of the FBI.

I wonder if they kept a file on de Gaulle.

I write a song whose lyrics include

"God will tell us, God will umbrella us,"

just as God did Chagall.

I am painting in a dead field

where no one walks.

I am dark green,

dark green and small.













Interlopers

It was one thing

to sit and play piano

all day, another

to keep the door closed,

another to introduce

every seperate piece

as if someone or

maybe even many

were listening.

Then interlopers clomped

down the stairs.

A neighbor came into the house

utterly uninvited. Another

neighbor thought you could

vote in the house, anytime

or month you wanted.

Trees unmask their branches

in the dark. Grass unmasks

the clover. The moon appears.

Then appears even closer.

how long

the map she was given

was an icicle

the next map

didn't exist.

*

echoes are here

and there, then

I don't know

where they've gone

*

how long will

this be going

on is hard to

say, a day, a

week or two, to

tell you the truth

i have no idea

how long, it' s wrong

of me to pretend

i do, i don't

Like Doors Inside the Farmhouse

We became very

interested in doing

things the wrong

way — and each

still involved both

time and information,

which shouldn't have

surprised us since

the wrong seems

to belong to a territory

as daunting in presence

as the sky. We were literally

children, hastening

when we had a secret

moment, or sometimes

just a secret, still children

like doors inside the farm-

house, lit here and there

by flickering lanterns,

little shiftings

like voices near, far.

Melody for My Sister

Lifeboats painted

more than endlessly.

Some guy named "E"

moving about in the kitchen

without our permission

or the moon's approval —

the leafless hand of the unseen moon

— the bettering of my sister

as she walks backward into

my past for one final fling

at predicting my future —

she sits upon a starlit piece

of furniture — hard to

decipher whether it is a chair or table —

it has legs just like the present moment

but the moon of the present moment

is yoking every bit of water for its reflection

and like some answer to gravity

me and my sister end there.