PARIS
Robert Klein Engler
The beds are so close
in this small hotel
by the Gare de Nord
you'd think we were married.
In the humid darkness
it feels as if we sleep on leaves.
Rain, falling like gravel,
wakes me in the middle of the night.
He breathes close by.
I think how wild animals
keep their distance,
but what they catch they eat.
ARRANGING THE CUSHIONS
Robert Klein Engler
Go away smoky light!
Your angle of late September glow
is not welcome here, striped across the sofa.
These colors, blue and burgundy like wine
make me remember asking for the first time:
“Give me your body and I will give you mine.”
SUMMER SOLSTICE
Robert Klein Engler
The sun slips behind west buildings.
Pink and purple clouds hang
above a black silhouette of walls.
We had lunch under an umbrella,
talked about art--even though we give
our word, the world changes--
soft panels of light partition the hours.
Now the streetlights go on--
polka dots against blocks of blue.
A hum of night engines rubs against dust
as long limbs of the day relax into shadows.
The window is open and the radio on.
I could be holding him--dancing--
feeling my way in the dark.
CLOUD BURST
Robert Klein Engler
Look at this world with its beat
of storms. I am in the midst of fog
with rain and wind, then heat.
I did not plan this dialogue,
those skinny hands or freckled glow.
Such a fool I am. Everyone knows.
While others sail, I still row.
Tossed around by love, I love it so.
CAUGHT OFF GUARD
Robert Klein Engler
The lake heaves, then pulls back a degree.
See the footprints fill, level and dissolve.
Sand blots where the water was.
“I'm sorry,” the sun says to the fog,
“I broke your heart, didn't I.”
ADVICE TO THE CITY COUNCIL
Robert Klein Engler
We made this city out of men and mortar.
A river flows from it to drain in the sea.
You have to keep that wound clean
or it will never heal.
BIG BANG THEORY
Robert Klein Engler
“Now keep this box closed.
It's full of nitroglycerin!
So, Billy hammered it shut.
That's why he's missin' then.
SPILLING OVER
Robert Klein Engler
I wonder where he went in the vast city.
Will I stumble on his tomb someday,
his skull covered with a jade mask?
Has he been hiding inside a flower?
Asleep in a bed of musk, I dream
until blood flows. I understand now.
He wanted to marry the world.
I am made from the same cloud of flesh.
How many others are left waiting
with words that have no place to go?
Look at these stains.
The heart leaks what overflows it.
A GRAMMAR OF EASTER
Robert Klein Engler
See, it is done. Perfect--
Clouds hang above the city like a shroud.
Dim light shadows the windows where all
the dead things we want repose in material sleep.
Made for food, we eat.
See, it will be. Imperfect--
Sparrows are agitated in the trees, ghosts
of incense rise into shafts of colored light,
the cloth is rolled up, and the stone removed.
Made for life, we burn.
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