Water Places

Brian Brock Water Places (2014) listen to songs here or go to album or download mp3s.
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1. Reverse-Binoculars the Magnolia Tree
A truck in a meadow
Scoops dirt, wheels clack to the mound
Fingers bleed sometimes
Mother has some stuff

"No, I don't know where he is -
I think he went to town"

"I like mustard"
Rug on the stairs, squish toes

Reverse-binoculars the magnolia tree

2. Hedge Maze
Hedge maze
Crunch gravel
Laces untied
Smooth cement
Fingers in the holes

She smacked her boy
His lips curled open

Apple-pattern pleats
White socks, black shoes

But where am I?
My mother gone
Run, stop, turn,

The sobbing boy
His mother's face
Frowns, looks, smiles,
Sends me home

3. (dawn)

4. One Fine Morning
One Fine Morning
Does' eyes glint wet
It's yours
It's handed down
Whether your sore soles feel like walking
Sticks and mud

This house will fall one day
The sky's alive with dragons
They're lost
Looking for home
Dragging old bodies through the marshes
Their scales and bones are everywhere

Rest for a while
Grass in driveway cracks
Hills burning in the evening light

No talk now, the table clatters
Like fireflies echo stars
It's time
Creak creaking stairs
No she's not here No she's not here
Just close your eyes and open them

original version of One Fine Morning

5. (box)

6. After Practice
After practice she turns the page
It doesn't look too hard
Nina picks the two parts out
Slow and an old soul opens

Sees her face in mirror black finish
With bones and arms and hands
A draft of harmonizing thoughts
Hammers hit, strings sparkle

Deerhoof-beaten meadow beds
Laid simple in the dark
The old grey hart lulls trembling fawn
To the drawn-on dawn unbroken

A still-in-winter willow-spray
Crackles in the wind
Sunstruck frozen catkins flare
Hammers hit, strings sparkle

Teacher tries to look away
But still the charm abides
The contrapuntal screws have set
Like stars bolt sky to ocean

We stand outside the shaking house
Watch for it to fall
While Nina picks the two parts out
Hammers hit, strings sparkle

7. Easter Egg Hunting
Easter Egg Hunting
In the half-melt snow with boots on
In the green, brown, and blue, the colors peek through
The white snow makes them glow

And I know it's no rabbit
Last year I found one in May
Speckled and resting on a leaf pile
Left unhid and undyed

That egg never hatched, no no
I put it in your garden
But I saw a speckled bird today
And I guess that speckled birds lay speckled eggs in May

Easter Egg Hunting

8. I Watched a Grey Doggie
I watched a grey doggie on the rockslide out back
of the cabin yesterday when you wanted to pack
It was still as the sculptures you make when we're home
It whistled and whimpered like it was left alone

Oh Father the wind sounded like someone sighing
Why oh why why-o was that coyote crying

That grey doggie turned its nose to the dust
coming over the ridge, where you taught me to trust
It followed the path that you told me you made
It paced and it pawed like it felt afraid

Oh Father the shadows stretched out like people falling
Who oh who who-o was that coyote calling

Booo-yip! Booo-yip! Booo...

That doggie layed down sillouhetted in blue
on the spot where you told me what little you knew
It faded to darkness scattered with stars
It sparkled and sputtered like it came from afar

Oh Father the moon rose up like people hoping
Where oh where where-o is that coyote loping
And why oh why why-o is that coyote crying

Booo-yip. Booo-yip.

I watched a grey doggie on the rockslide out back.

9. Buffalo Commons
Burnt stone shell of a store on Carson Street
Arms stretched out, elbows hold against the wind and sun
Rain pools
Tattered paper cartons float with rusted cans

Carved wood crossed on the broken windowsill
Bright sharp shards reflecting something stopping up the door

A buffalo with shoulders wedged
Eyes wide
Watching the wind and weeds and telephone wires in the street

Stuck like a funny postcard from a bad place
Will concentrated in work

Splinters and pebbles and dust
and an illegible sign

That building falls down

Fire rises
Catches on a pile of papers on a faded desk

The prairies will burn
The prairies will burn
The buffalo burn
The prairies will burn

10. Cesar Chavez Park (Laveen, Ariz.)
A crust of Wonder wheat
crumbles off its slice
Ducks cross from lawn to pond
The heat waves

Choking pits can't reach
But stretch their smearing eyes
The rope that helps to understand

Scattered sons and daughters
Playing "Off to War"
Tell each other when to die
Or be saved

Drumbeats dim the water
With trumpets four and four
The bajo-sexto singer tries
To think of things to crave

Picnic table dwellers
Wait until the dark
To wash or fight or start to dream
Or misbehave

Ice-cream fortune-tellers
Push their glowing carts
Mumble nonsense in-between
Good flavors

This bench is getting cold
And it's hard and my bones are old

11. (traffic cameras)

12. Turn of the World
"Do not disturb my circles"
the sand-reckoner commands
as the sword comes down,
who was cutting up grains
to watch rearrange
into a square.

I feel
the turn of the world

"The great god Pan is dead"
a sea-spray voice shouts out
as the ship sails on.
Yet the oracle trusts
in her travertine crusted
three-legged chair.

I feel
the turn of the world

"The paradox is the passion of thought"
the leaflet-man cries out
through the murmuring crowd.
If we could just read him
we'd see back to Eden
in his apple-seed stare.

I feel
the turn of the world

13. It's Dark
It's dark
pondlets slip and lap
what's this cricket chorus
singing in my sleep?
what's that starlight
leaping from the lake?
wet fingers

lappy liminal skinlicks
muck-foot weed-floor
float-sink under-drift
turning toward the sky
who's that old one
hiding in the heavens?
peering out from the empty circle


14. Doves
I love birds.

Yes, they can fly,
have hollow bones
and there's birdsong.

Yes, they flock and migrate,
come to feeders,
Penguins waddle.

I love birds

I know some doves.
They live with us
in roof angles,
in three families:

East, they hide
black, blinking eyes;

the middle ones watch,
leap and play hurt
when we get near,
to screen the nest;

West, it's just sticks in a heap,
and we watch their fallen babies die, and we
sweep up the debris.

(I love birds)


a "c" in a little circle Brian Brock 2014 and on into.... the FUTURE!!!!