Tag Archives: Jonathan Weinert

Chanted, Disenchanted

by Jonathan Weinert

The faint first filings of an evening frost
confuse the grass with snowpack, or a silver-
stippled slack tide baring rocks. Never
in the history of rocks and tides has what
I’m seeing now been seen.

The silver slack tide breathes against the rocks,
rising and receding, rising. Seaweed streams
its peacock plaits along the silver.

Mirror, snowpack, moonlight, slate.
Your midnight hair at midnight.
Reader, please remember this: No one sees
what happens.

between the nearest stars.


The Rapture

by Jonathan Weinert

We cornered Church, and entered paradise.
Something unnamed clashed. We thought
it bushes was, or one

uncaught complaint from opened windows
hurled. It seemed not every
guy had regot Eden. Some
had slithered back, with all their taxes.

World Without Gods

by Jonathan Weinert

Dream of commonwealth without invasion
dream of reason what

is reasonable to a hurricane

dream of this moment
wind’s incalculable vectors

demotic maples

dream of beauty what
is beautiful to a tidal wave

dream of the good hand

dream of what the good hand touches
dream of this evening with its war

its wet indulgent streets

dream of prayer as attention
dream of perfection what

is perfect to a fragment

dream of loving kindness
coming home at last to maps and open windows

dream of floodlights hoisted up

to cancel all the vengeful gods
dream of childhood without government

dream of black indulgent wings

which legislate safety without repression
dream of security without religion

death each year each year renewal

dream of waking up without intention
dream of emptiness

and understanding