Glenn Cooper
Sonnet: Whatever Coming and Going Is
Whatever coming and going is,
death remains
the only question of philosophy
worth pursuing. Today
I thought of Blair and the way music
left his ears one beat at a time
until there was nothing left
but a kind of silent yearning. It’s true
the stars menstruate, we, their curdled
blood. A threadless way.
The asphxiation of truth.
What were you thinking about
in those final few minutes?
Put on a clean shirt before you die, someone said.
Sonnet: I Am Moving Towards Work
I am moving towards work without having slept,
the birds in Joseph Cornell’s little box
whistling for storms,
a rainy doorway swept of broken butterflies,
a clock that does not strike.
Michelle, the night cracked when it left
your breath, stole meaning from sound,
the muffled drums hidden among your pale dresses.
You passed through my dreams
like a rainy doorway
closing with eyelids heavy with sleep.
I am in need of music
sweet, unheard, the stain of love upon the world
and I move towards work without having slept.
Sonnet: Goodbye Now To The Sun Shining
Goodbye now to the sun shining
on brass beds, the wonderful roar
of the street. Goodbye to women
rolling down their stockings, scented
with the warmth of December evenings,
to birdsong and clocks pounding
the minutes of metal. Enough
seen. Enough heard. Goodbye to
“I waited by the telephone” and
“We could never live together”.
Accelerate softly my blood, for I am
sick at heart, broken and meditative.
The years are frozen.
I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
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