Tin Robot

Joe Bozic lives in Minneapolis. He does a lot of both scripted and unscripted theater. These are some poems.

[clackyj]

Between Days

tell me

(see the dog

circle around

three times

before settling in

for sleep)

of your restless evenings

(see the cat

stretching long

in the sunlight

then curling

to nap)

laying in your unmade bed

(see them

both still

silent

in slumber)

[clackyj]

From January On

let's talk of flowers let's talk of spring and the feel of soil between fingers let's talk of long days growing longer as the skyline grows greener and we have less time to dream and more life to dream about let's talk of leaving home and staying home and taking it all in and exhaling and breathing and breath let's talk of silence but for the birds but for the wind but for the bees slipping out from soft petals throughout the garden let's talk of tomorrow for today is too grey so let's talk of tomorrow and the colors that wait to bloom

[clackyj]

Look West

yeah I've been across this country soaring over mountain tops and corn tops even a few abandoned big tops forgotten from those days of five cent peanut evenings with poppa I've walked through urban forests and past fairy cities trapped in the trees and I've watched the sun rise over water over neighbors over burnt-out duplexes lining train tracks in every trip I found myself facing that sprawling mess of smoke and steel where the teens go to find themselves becoming someone else where the sun falls into the ocean and we pour into the streets to pretend to be in the places we once were except home we never pretend to be home

[clackyj]

Late in the Day

by the dying embers in the fireplace shirt sleeves unrolled blouses unbuttoned blankets pulled up to neck while each minute declaration made since the bed was made unravels under sheets quietly undone decisions staving off sleep for the evening restlessness overtakes all even the moon feels it slipping across the sky in another room in three-day pajamas one who made no choices but to sleep knowing tomorrow would still come and tomorrow will always come after sleep

[clackyj]

Cthulu

at one hundred feet tall it becomes hard to imagine you slipping out of bed dreams of centuries fading in the morning light you shuffling through the house tired wings beating away dust and hope you setting off into the world to blacken man's heart with your ancient terror but first a tablespoon of cream stirred into coffee

[clackyj]

A Winter Away

it was hard not to notice the snow was different blowing from the east not from the north not from the west not as we expected after years of watching snow blow in we did not know which way to face when the storm came to shield ourselves from the squall to protect our faces from frostbite and the hazards of winter so we set out to leave a fresh set of tracks in the pristine field not searching for home but for a place to stay until this snow became familiar to us

[clackyj]

France 2004

there was a street corner in Paris anchored by some church or pre-modern library brooding against the skyline standing for centuries atop a small hill of steps maybe seventy-five of them irregular to the top slick with rain darkened in a foreign evening we never climbed up and we never regretted that night the next day a tour of Notre Dame this time a tower built around a staircase waiting at the peak a visit with gargoyles against clouds stone grey silent there were so many people crowded on the bottom steps so few at the top we listened to the laughter rising up

[clackyj]

Those Old Ghosts

we only dream of faces we've seen those old ghosts of forgotten bus rides and bathroom breaks at roadside diners come to visit us as we sleep to tug at our brain and whisper remember remember me a voice that fades out beyond the bedroom wall beyond the starlight those ghosts as they sleep dream of you and listen to you whisper I remember I remember you

[clackyj]

The Cat

the cat becomes home slinking across the lawn through the door left innocently ajar unseen setting up a permanent residence near the radiators tricking us into thinking she's been there all along that we built our house around her

[clackyj]

#9

William Henry Harrison spent a quarter of his Presidency ejecting executive orders forcefully from every orifice William Henry Harrison spent one week out of four consuming opium and oil and befriending any blood-sucking animal that wasn't already in his Cabinet William Henry Harrison did nothing but deliver an inaugural address and die or so the history books tell us in fewer than 8,445 words

[clackyj]

#16

Abe Lincoln was buried in bare feet A full suit stove-pipe hat (as we imagine) and ten towering toes standing straight to heaven emancipated from this mortal coil one April evening how strange to be shoeless in the spring how strange to slide socks off a man that tall

[clackyj]

The Bit

the best thing about a bit an inside joke an endless riff between us is that the moment it's no longer funny you get bored and choose to move on is the moment you let that bit pass on by to land on some eager sap looking for a cheap laugh

[clackyj]

A Poem for a Broken Heart

somebody took a caramel-filled chocolate unwrapped it cracked it open set it next to the candy bowl its sweetness spilling onto the sideboard it's been left long enough to leave a stain in the wood

[clackyj]

The Stars

he was always told to watch the stars transform each night into hunters and bears, imitation crabs, assorted silverware pointing towards home but he never listened so when the sun set and the clouds cleared away he would see nothing but himself twinkling a million times above

[clackyj]

Whatcha Got?

Whatcha got there in that well-worn well-wore leopord-print faux leather-skinned (adorned with rubies) heavy-duty button-clasp fanny pack? Just the envy of all the folks shaking on home through the subway stations

[clackyj]

Every Winter

build a snowman every winter when the first fresh snow falls across the valley doesn't he look so different now? doesn't he look the same? so much like last year so new for today watch the sun rise every day when the long bright fingers stretch across the sky doesn't it look so different now? doesn't it look the same? so much like yesterday so new for today

[clackyj]

Random Acts of Kindness

we performed random acts of kindness for gold stars green tickets and little round badges to sew onto vests so strangers could see those tiny niceties and be impressed but those vests too small for office wear have been given away to unknown random children and the gold stars no longer stick to suits and ties so now we keep those make-shift rewards hidden behind the glimmer in a dear friend's eye