We are to the left of the lions

Hovering like helicopters
In buttery-dark night

This is a powerful song
And I'm its mother so I can touch it

My daughter says so many things
But I'm attentive only to words 

This morning there were these
Cut out the mermaid and leave the sea

 

The Rhythm 

For years
You followed 

Happily
The drums

Until you 
Figured out 

You were
Supposed to 

Come after them
And that 

They’re not 
At all

The same 

 

Another Vague California Lyric 

It’s just a title 
Which is an argument 
For the validity 
Of what comes after 
But what happens 
When what comes after 
Requires no validation
And is itself nothing 
More than the echo
Of some far off
And wholly absent sound
Surf’s up sun’s down 

 

Something Spoken Softly

At a podium on fire on a porch
Something spoken softly
In a bed on a train out a window
Something spoken softly
To a child the total stranger
That I undoubtedly makes of you


Noah Eli Gordon lives in Denver and teaches in the MFA Program at CU-Boulder. More info can be found here: http://www.noaheligordon.com/news. He writes, "My work here comes from among a group of hundreds of poems composed entirely on my iPhone in less than five minutes each between late 2016 and 2017. After over 25 years as a practitioner of the art of poetry, I wanted to see if a dedication to presence and immediacy might offer itself as a balm against the technology that serves otherwise to eradicate the art from both of these conditions."