Two Elsewhere Published Zipper Poems:

(For an explanation of Zipper poetry/opera, go to "Zippers" on the Navigation tab)

                                                 The Poppy

                                   Perhaps its
                                                                  Fragile
                                     strength lies
                                                             in its petals
                                        exclusively
                                                           as if each were
                             in being so perfectly
                                                           the wing of a monochrome
                                                  suited
                                                           moth... suited
                      to a place of brief floods
                                                           in an iridescent
                                and overwhelming
                                                           silk-like orange
                                                      sun.

c. 2000 d. harder (Milkweed)

 
 
                                  A (Not So) Simple Logic

         searching the palpable
                                                             patterns
                                for patterns
                                                           for the love of God
                                 for a rhythm
                                                         written in verse
           that might possibly reveal
                                                        and intended to reveal
                                         the logic
                                                       in an artist’s work
                          or at least the will
                                                       the will
                                  of a universe
                                                       and the simple
                       inscrutably complex
                                                       logic of a loving
                           and wildly violent
                                                      God

Even better than sex at rush hour when the rest jerk and flow in tight clusters at sixty is to drive at ninety or better sliding in and out of pockets only inches longer than your car, anticipating movements seven cars ahead; a hole, a change of speed, someone changing lanes and you’re there before you know it, before anyone else has seen it -- that place in the flow you borrow for a second or two, moving so fast so close to chaos you are, for as long as this ballistic meditation lasts, free, you are dancing with Shiva, you are lost in the moment and found in the flow: an insane Zen master -- detached, disciplined, and utterly irresponsible.

© 1995 d. harder (Witness)

                                                            The Mary Kay Lady

Pink; the car, the trim on the house, pink; the wet and glossy lips, the shadows of her eyes; pink; the details in the life of the woman who sells cosmetics and lives around the corner, a woman who wouldn't -- you'd swear couldn't -- know how to make time for passion, tragedy, or unsightly care, so immaculate she seems, so coordinated her life, until she tells you in a soft, almost breathless voice (laboring from its one-lunged depth) that her son just went back to prison and that she’ll be -- once again -- the mother of his motherless child, and this time for good. Too old she says she thought she was but she must, she and her crippled husband must protect the child, in part, because she feels she’s failed with the first, the prodigal, the imprisoned son and proud though she is of the second son preaching the gospel somewhere in Southern California, it is the older, violent, lost one she cares -- or cares to talk most -- about and it may be that the pink, strict, and structured life of this stiff, attractive woman married to a man who moves on crutches was too tight for the long-reined needs of the first though equally it may be that the pink, rigid, regulated life she lives gives her the footing, gives her the strength to love and care for the child of the child she's lost.

© 2004 d. harder (Facets)