Mental Physics

Mental Physics

I can make the waters of the Moroccan Sebou
Crash against the Atlantic tides
And foam against the broken hull
Of a giant beached freighter
Rusting on the shore of Mohamed’s land.

I can make the high Wyoming air
Tear through my nose and lungs
As I carefully stand on the rocky outcrop
Above pines, and deer, alone,
Two miles high in the thin hard air.

I can watch the albino gorilla, Snowflake,
In Barcelona’s beautiful park-zoo,
Slowly rotate on her parallel bars,
Regurgitating into her hand and eating again,
For audiences of not less than four.

I can make tepid days with strong herbs
Hanging heavy around my face like veiled dreams
Of streets in Istanbul’s old city where
Acres of leather and yards of pearls
And quires of multi-language instructions
Jump out across centuries and miles.

I can watch high school girls again,
Carrying the flag at basketball games,
Their pumping orange shorts flashing,
Tasseled white boots marking time.

I can throw Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys;
Three castles, two cousins, and I in an attic:
They’d played the game enough to know
That I’d chosen the weakest position to defend.

Daily, at inattentive moments,
From this eyeless office,
I smelt my past joys
From measureless tons of lonely slag.