While Writing

Noelle Kocot
Someone inside says, "Get busy."
But I've got appointments to keep,
I have an abstemious love of equations calculated quickly
While the tepid day melts into design.

And the high cheekbones of the beautiful life
Bear the loose look of a calendar by lamplight.
I search for patterns in everything.
I am tied in knots of comprehension.

I think, how useful it might be
To pierce all the hands of the earth
With an oath of pins encircling snarling planets
But talent and shallowness sewn together

Is nothing but a kerchief tied around a survivalist's head,
And it helps to know the feet wriggling through a hole
In the universe will land for an instant
Upon the cushions of the dark,

And that after marching one doozy of a kilometer after another, 
We each come upon the same poem scribbled in invisible ink 
Taped to the door of a room
In which an austere justice is burning for us.

From 4 by Noelle Kocot, published by Four Way Books. Copyright © 2001 by Noelle Kocot. Reprinted by permission of Four Way Books. All rights reserved.

Noelle Kocot

by this poet

poem

The alpha You. The omega You.
My grandmother’s ghost, its girlish snafu
Basking in the waters of urgency.

But I want the coolness of snow.
I want pairs of hands that speak to me cleanly,
Sutras to resuscitate what reigns

Over warped celluloid and heirlooms I can’t touch.
There

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.
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