like honey and trombones
I bought a bookshelf, assembled it, alphabetized my books by author’s last name, and decorated the top shelf. I’m a nerd, so I’m pretty excited about it.
there are cities inside my chest. the cities look like New York in the fifties. the buildings straighten the clouds. every automobile a convertible. the men all wear neckties and hats. the women all have beautiful shapes of color upon them. someone has saved a baby. there is a parade. someone has saved all the babies. there is the biggest parade moving inside of me. the skies explode with ticker tape. strangers kiss in the street. their kisses are what make me live forever. this is how you make me feel. like honey and trombones. like honey and trombones.
“
| — |
Anis Mojgani |
NaPoWriMo 3/30
Being a poet that doesn’t drink
there are not a number of instances where I have the opportunity
to pee outside after a show.
But while exploring the grounds
and with a long circle back to the little red house on campus I am staying in
and with 500 acres of this school in Vermont with dark fields surrounding
the light of the buildings in the distance and the curve of the road
bringing me past three trees waiting for me and with a chorus of crickets rising
and the sky so magnificently curving its hands cupping the night earth
and the chance to write a poem about it for a second time
and a cup of Chamomile tea in my hand
half its contents singing in my bladder
you better believe I stood next to those trees
and pissed into the April air.
Walking up the road afterwards
one lone insect sounding like a midnight duck joined the crickets every fourth count.
A stripe of open blue cut through the swaddling clouds
a belt of stars
a gentle river barely of banks
pulling light out of its dark depths
to talk to the moon.
Carpentry by Anis Mojgani
I want to make you moonbeams out of fallen leaves
I want to make a house to hold your sleep
- Anis Mojgani
There’s Grizzlies Out There And They’ll Hold You Warm by Anis Mojgani
I hear the chains of a dog behind me when I walk
but nothing’s there
I look like a mountain man
and am beginning to feel more and more like I look
like a man
who is a mountain
but wants to be a river
swim in me girl
sit awhile
teach my skin how to skip stones for you
I want you to swim in me
- Anis Mojgani
Come Closer performance from this year’s Heavy & Light, courtesy of TWLOHA.
Shot and edited by Dustin Miller and crew.
Watch this, it’s good for your heart
I bought this, but haven’t watched it yet. Live poetry performances from Anis Mojgani, Buddy Wakefield, and Derrick Brown. Come watch it with me. We can drink my fireside coffee, it tastes exactly how you think train rides through European country sides feel when you rest your head against the window. I’d promise you use of my sea otter mug, but let’s not rush things.
My piano coat unbuttoned
and all my pianos fell into the leaves.
I was picking up pianos for hours
when you walked past
your skin glowed like a loud dog.
In your smile this dog had a fence
to push his face up against.
What happiness he barked.
With pianos filling my arms
I followed through the neighborhood
and up onto the dark green porch of your home.
—ANIS MOJGANI an excerpt from “All Those Gold Leaves”
