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poet

Noelle Kocot

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by this poet

poem
"You" have transformed into "my loss."
The nettles in your vanished hair
Restore the absolute truth
Of warring animals without a haven.
I know, I'm as pathetic as a railroad
Without tracks.  In June, I eat
The lonesome berries from the branches.
What can I say, except the forecast
Never changes.  I sleep without
poem
It's the fern beyond the wind, the classic
Eruptions.  Night is a funnel that is overcome.
Violence of signs beyond the pale. Stasis
Has its own way, the hard work, the violence. 
Convalesce, convalesce in the green green
World, in which you could hardly walk,
But that was before, before life set its rhythms
In
poem
My body is 
A little 
Green sea.

Bears bathe
In it
Then go to

Sleep in the 
Basement.
A four-wheeler

Slams past,
And then the 
Sea splashes

Around and 
Around.  
O little sea,

O my body,
Sit here with me
While I just talk.