Book for David Meltzer

by Julie Rogers

In your chair, your cave
head bent to book
your prayer, your cradle
quiet lights your eyes,
fingertips, bowing spine
wooing mind
from its house of white
head atop an old man disguise
dog – eared trappings of sage,
sweatshirt loose
on bones ground down
into flesh you wrestle daily.
Clomp along to the teapot
stand at the sink
look out over the Oakland hills
delight in their heavy gray,
pause on the walk back
to swallow titles, each a cell
that fled your body
for the shelves,
pause again, look in
on me still across the bed
my skin your page
belly of words
mythic dark patch
your full quill
breasts, O love’s round letters
will write your poems
but today you are reading.

from House Of The Unexpected