Tail winds chase my board
I plunge the paddle into glacial depths
Dark cold moving
Every few strokes I remember to look up
To see the peaks
Standing shoulder to shoulder
Pondering the valley with a lake
Studying the slivers of color
Drifting like leaves on the surface
For a minute we study each other
The mountains and I
Until a wobble calls
My attention is back on the water
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Queries to My Seventieth Year”)
Translucent currents
Merge from sallow glaciers
Tiny voices sparkling
Turquoise summer blossoms
Flow one into the other
Ripples into folds
Folds into waves standing
Rearing thunder barreled rhinos
Colliding over buried boulders
Charging the nose of the raft
Blades in hand we mount we rise
We fall we rise again
Rhinos stamping behind us
-T. Weeks
(A response to “My Canary Bird”)
Patient bird hunts
Bullfrog tadpoles scurry into the murk
I hate the heron
Complains the boy on the shore
I love the tadpoles
Replies the man
Without them we’d never see the heron
-T. Weeks
(A response to “As I Sit Writing Here”)
A thousand miles from here
People I have never met
Will never meet
Are playing a game I never play
Never even watch
Half of them will win that game
And I will feel joy
I like the color of their shirts
I had a layover in their airport
They don’t win often
What more reasons need I
-T. Weeks
(A response to “A Font of Type”)
Thinning bullet shower
Colder
Pivot
More shots
Hotter
This must be the way
-T. Weeks
(A response to “The Bravest Soldiers”)
What happened to William Morgan
Betrayer of America supporter of Castro
Seeker of love
Seeker of acceptance
Seeker of a new life
A man seeks seeking liberty
Ambushed by a despot
J. Edgar Hoover sucks the life out of him
Revoking citizenship
Delivering banishment
Vibrato is the word of the day
And these Cuban people are democratic
They would never be communists
A man trying to live in Cuban peace
He doesn’t see that Fidel is just like the rest of them
Power hungry and chasing the power
Chairing the power
Everybody loves the picture of Che Guevara
The idealistic revolutionary
Nobody remembers he ran the national bank of Cuba
Traitor drunk with rubles
They all get drunk as soon as the money shows up
As soon as the power shows up
The bay of pigs is all of us
We are all patsies
We believe we fight we love then we are betrayed
We are always betrayed
By prophets by revolutionaries by candidates
They are real when they start
They are all traitors in the end
All of them
All of them
All of them
All of them
Even you
Even you
Even you
Even you
RIP William Morgan
Fool
Dear moms we’ve made our peace
Our mind is clear and our spirit clear
-T. Weeks
@life_immense
(A response to “A Carol Closing Sixty-Nine”)
This an ode to that time
That you finally said the thing
That you always wanted to say
That you’d never said
That now you regret
I’m sorry
-T. Weeks
(A response to “To Those Who’ve Fail’d”)
I will call it debnüs this great expanse of water
Waves and tides striking the rocks and sand at the edges
Rolling watery hills catching and releasing the sun each day
A blue world full of creatures beautiful and terrible
The rest may call it by a common name
Few will listen beyond the word
But when I call it by this name many will wonder
-T. Weeks
(A response to “From Montauk Point”)
How inevitable the misfortunes ahead
How evanescent the fortunes that I seek
How precious the misfortunes I make
How sinister the fortunes I find
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Paumanok”)
Cool eyes roll across the table
One set into the other
Two shots down and it’s one to one
Best out of three
Ready?
Rock
Paper
Scissors
Shoot.
A hundred years from now they’ll wonder
How we made such a decision made
And we’ll laugh because we didn’t
Sincerely, Lovejoy and Pettygrove
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Mannahatta”)
Life Immense 