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James Krueger There are a few basic laws I could probably count them On my toes The rest Is all made up So, why is it then That we hammer on Clinging to dreams That are killing us? This Is the question That encircles me Like crows [ More ]
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-- James Krueger Automobiles enlace around clover-leaved lanes Engines and streetlights, circuits and logic gates Hammer on With atomic exactitude While the world itself Wobbles Like a falling top North, South, East, West Cardinal directions mean little these days From the car to the building,... [ More ]
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James Krueger The god of Moses Led his people out of the wilderness My god urges me in My god is not the god Who writes his laws in stone Mine Scribbles in the sand And then blows the work Away [ More ]
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– James Krueger, 11/30/06 The geese are going east towards the river Not caring for country and town Their lives are unbounded by Imaginary distinctions Not caring for cumulative gain Their lives are unburdened Not free from pain But free From futility Unburdened by Abstract hungers They are... [ More ]
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James Krueger, 10/29/06 When spring comes The birds begin thatching The wren Weaves a small basket The swallow her vessel of clay Down in the fen There are beavers Busy with the felling of trees Damming While the spider spins her silver net From blade to blade Hunting, harvesting,... [ More ]
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James Krueger, 10/27/06; for Sara There are exquisite flowers Elegant explosions of petal And perfume Some so subtle No one notices them Though they erupt Just underfoot While others, subsisting implausibly Are backwoods and obscure Where no soul has worked their way To meet them Nonetheless,... [ More ]
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Artillery - James Krueger, Kingston, 10/6/06 The day is a diamond-tipped blade And over the great spruce Droves of dark birds dart Coming in clouds A loosening of arrows From the king’s front line Slow and loaded Squadrons of geese sail through Spearheaded And the wide thatch burns... [ More ]
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Not All of Summer - James Krueger, Ruby, NY 9/06 Not all of Summer is early August Some is late September When gold gathers in the chilly hills Scattered Freely in the wake of aspen winds No one in this town clamors for gold The green of a single dollar does fine For them First is gold Then... [ More ]
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In All the Right Places - James Krueger, Port Ewen, NY 9/06 To the left is a bank full of acorns and alder Its emerald cascade of fungus And fern Almost fools you Until you realize the silence That the bright birds of summer Have flown On the trail behind you A sharp crack Or a stirring... [ More ]
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