<div class="line">the night we saw the mouse</div>
<div class="line">in our apartment</div>
<div class="line">you wouldn&#8217;t take your feet</div>
<div class="line">off the couch for an hour</div>
<div> </div>
<div class="line">staring at the space beneath</div>
<div class="line">the dresser where it ran</div>
<div class="line">and when you did finally</div>
<div class="line">you stamped through the room</div>
<div> </div>
<div class="line">stamped and made noises</div>
<div class="line">lifting your arms into the air</div>
<div class="line">as in some tribal ritual</div>
<div class="line">for scaring away the dead</div>
<div> </div>
<div class="line">I grabbed a broom to hunt it</div>
<div class="line">I’ve killed a few I tell you</div>
<div class="line">inching towards the corner</div>
<div class="line">crouched and poised to strike</div>
<div> </div>
<div class="line">in slippers and underwear</div>
<div class="line">a parody of early man</div>
<div class="line">my cave with mice instead</div>
<div class="line">of mastodons on the walls</div>
<div> </div>
<div class="line">how primitive we seemed</div>
<div class="line">then primitive and hopeless</div>
<div class="line">lost against the wild things</div>
<div class="line">the ancient fears returning</div><figure class="wp-block-audio"><audio controls src="https://admin.rattle.com/audio/NewmanPrimitives.mp3"></audio></figure>

Carrot Ginger

Sharing Wounds While Card Shopping

Primitives

<div class="line">it used to be one mendicant</div>
<div class="line">monk now there are three</div>
<div class="line">bowls to their sides walking</div>
<div class="line">single file in the direction</div>
<div class="line">of the station everyone rushing</div>
<div class="line">by them on the way to work</div>
<div class="line">briefcases brushing their robes</div>
<div class="line">heels perilously close to bare feet</div>
<div></div>
<div class="line">they move together without</div>
<div class="line">interrupting the flow around them</div>
<div class="line">their even steps more like gliding</div>
<div class="line">as if the world truly were illusion</div>
<div class="line">or they were or both two dreams</div>
<div class="line">blurring through each other</div>
<div class="line">to a dream larger still and</div>
<div></div>
<div class="line">I find myself thinking about</div>
<div class="line">spiritual commuting the empty</div>
<div class="line">offices they’d go to no furniture</div>
<div class="line">phones carpeting bare except perhaps</div>
<div class="line">a framed koan or two on the walls</div>
<div class="line">above motivation or would they wait</div>
<div class="line">every morning on the platform</div>
<div class="line">instead for a train that never comes</div>
<div></div>
<div class="line">I remember the mornings then</div>
<div class="line">well before sunrise alone</div>
<div class="line">in the street walking the dog</div>
<div class="line">I’d see the oldest one coming</div>
<div class="line">out of the darkness toward me</div>
<div class="line">as if he’d been crossing the city</div>
<div class="line">endlessly taking the measure</div>
<div class="line">of the night are we more blessed</div>
<div></div>
<div class="line">by three now or more in need</div>
<div class="line">I wonder as two Thai girls near</div>
<div class="line">the corner the only ones who notice</div>
<div class="line">bow before them hands together</div>
<div class="line">in gassho one kneeling almost</div>
<div class="line">to the ground then rising to give</div>
<div class="line">their offerings a quart of soup and rice</div>
<div></div>
<div class="line">the monks stop and whisper to them</div>
<div class="line">back in the world for a moment</div>
<div class="line">a street in Queens cars honking</div>
<div class="line">planes overhead the restaurant beside</div>
<div class="line">them selling platanos while the rest</div>
<div class="line">of us continue in the stream having</div>
<div class="line">only ourselves left to offer the day</div>
<div class="line">the city this illusion of our lives</div>


In a Room at the Marriott Marquis

Our First Five Days in the Country

Offering

<div class="line">I put on my gloves, the ones</div>
<div class="line">whose seams have burst that</div>
<div class="line">you think I should get rid of.</div>
<div class="line">But I like them, the brown</div>
<div class="line">cracked leather and fur lining</div>
<div class="line">coming out in a few places.</div>
<div class="line">It’s snowing and I want to see it:</div>
<div class="line">the first snow and an early one.</div>
<div class="line">I am a child still when it comes</div>
<div class="line">to snow, having grown up in Miami,</div>
<div class="line">and it can still bring back, if only</div>
<div class="line">for a while, a sense of trust</div>
<div class="line">and wonder, a child’s infinite</div>
<div class="line">expectation from the world.</div>
<div class="line">I put on my parka, the coat</div>
<div class="line">I got when I moved up north,</div>
<div class="line">nearly thirty years old,</div>
<div class="line">that I tell you will end up</div>
<div class="line">one day in the Smithsonian.</div>
<div class="line">It’s been snowing all morning,</div>
<div class="line">but I’ve been working inside,</div>
<div class="line">and know there’s little point</div>
<div class="line">in looking out the windows</div>
<div class="line">of our basement apartment.</div>
<div class="line">Four inches already, at just past</div>
<div class="line">noon, according to the radio,</div>
<div class="line">and I think of that time it snowed</div>
<div class="line">in Miami, how excited we were,</div>
<div class="line">the first snow ever, they told us</div>
<div class="line">over the P.A., then let us into</div>
<div class="line">the schoolyard to see it: small</div>
<div class="line">glints of ice, maybe the size</div>
<div class="line">of grains of sand, dropping</div>
<div class="line">through the sky towards us—</div>
<div class="line">all looking up, our mouths open,</div>
<div class="line">even though we were teenagers—</div>
<div class="line">but never reaching the ground.</div>
<div class="line">Outside the world is blanketed,</div>
<div class="line">nothing shoveled yet or plowed.</div>
<div class="line">The dog is with me and runs</div>
<div class="line">up the stairs to the sidewalk.</div>
<div class="line">We’re the first to break the scene,</div>
<div class="line">our legs sinking with every step.</div>
<div class="line">I watch him spinning and jumping,</div>
<div class="line">snow falling slowly onto his coat.</div>
<div class="line">It falls on me, too, and makes me</div>
<div class="line">want to look up again, mouth open,</div>
<div class="line">waiting for the snow to reach me</div>
<div class="line">this time, and forget, if only for</div>
<div class="line">a while, the clothes I could never</div>
<div class="line">afford, the house we may never have,</div>
<div class="line">the life I had wanted to give you by now.</div><figure class="wp-block-audio"><audio controls src="https://admin.rattle.com/audio/NewmanSnow.mp3"></audio></figure><p></p>

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February 5, 2022PrimitivesHarry Newman

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February 5, 2022PrimitivesHarry Newman

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