Cliff Fyman

NO. 7

for John Coletti

Force eventually melts a man when carried to its limit
but the nonviolent ones whom some call dreamers
with a sneer, cling tenaciously to their way and grow
toughest of all with time.
Having tried force and failed in my own ways
I'm an example of someone convinced of nonviolence.
All I know is when one of two people doesn't want to fight
the fighting stops. It's a wisdom that always comes
too late. And it never seems to find
a place of application in regard to national wars
but I keep it anyway
in my back pocket and make it talk to me
walking home alone late at night
fires climbing
climbing up all sides of the globe

ZERO HOUR

This morning is slowly moving away from
the moment which is hard to collect my being in
A series of disappointments led to this day
if looked at it would bring me cascading back
to a thick room I used to live in without hands
with relatives and friends none of whom
would take out the garbage
making the urge to travel a kind of grace
in an open place to take off the shirt
to rearrange my looks without anyone noticing
and be healed in the confidence of velvet pockets
The heart wants to go back it
always wants to go back
following the digressions of last night's wine
but thankfully hands are made in front
of the body naturally to snatch from the air
a hat of sky with the faith to wear it.

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