morning doesn't seem as bright as it was adverstised

kevin is

              completely without morals       at least

that is what’s been said

                           by a

certain one who knows          simply

someone that i met

              brothered     to the teeth            not even         room to move

mostly         accurate at least                  if not            thoroughly the truth

the truce

a surprise                         is not in order         i have                 all of it                                              

               written down

i should ask          the court reporter          to pass   the word          around

buried     closer to the sand    is all           the wasted time

            still    it slips right through my hands      still

                                                    refuses to be mine

morning    doesn’t seem as bright  as it   was advertised

no special      thing about this light  and now     there’s     

                                                      nothing left to hide

vicissitude

i felt the snow before i saw it

in the spines of trees and little knees

thanksgiving’s warmth is confusing          (winter      inevitable)

     each arrived to search my memory of night-sky first snows 

                                      and finding a coat

clouds built in the north   over minor lakes

yellow tape

coffee cake

my mother sent   packages   slow moving fonts

 black    matted april            fragile 

      grieved loss          with care

warmth   light cost of share

                    bleak mind wear

my thirtieth night

solidarity 

was a blizzard

we for me

that autumn        i was twenty-three

university

           vagabond training               the nate archibald track

         no-flake snow flakes bending back

                         the earth light  moved   imperceptibly 

the city bus stopped for me    on a corner where buses didn’t run 

        time got added to everything                    

         

how did you answer

                  autumn and winter you   

mid-day proof

    winter white joy     severed    four and ninety-three

led to morning   bright 

    one example   is tonight

would it be for heaven’s cancer 

                                          or sunlight’s vivid right

weeks     demure

 

                             cold clock premature

time’s cacophony of art

                 

 melancholy 

                                                                         dressed

                                    every time

in scarf double socks and vulnerability

buttoned up

for thirty weeks 

wintered

february thought april

                     first light arrived

for me

a departure from grief  by the hand 

 of a thief

   

a life cycle lesson    the syracuse session

             more than an alibi

 the feathery weight 

kept things straight   

hate for hate      for hate             for hate

                                      clear skies  

scattered equivalent norms    awaitied  a storm    a whole to a form 

in syracuse  

    hearts were holocaust

                            we gained light in moving 

  long nights           you could hear

                              we just made the winter we breathed the cold air

which began the gaze skyward

equalled the light 

november twenty-third    the  wrongest of all nights

vicissitude |vəˈsisəˌt(y)oōd|

a change of circumstances or fortune, typically one that is unwelcome or unpleasant