Altogether and Not at All

Wherever Janus looks,
He’s still where Janus is,
Stuck in his Janus head

Between his nostalgia
And his dread. There’s no gate.
No transitions aren’t

Janus in his Janus
Place, playing sly behind
His duplex Janus face.

Extra eyes, extra nose,
Maybe he processes
More than most of you do—

Maybe he talks more, too.
But he’s as where he is
As any other soul.

The Desert in Winter

Domestication’s imports—
From Central America,
Then from Europe or back East—
Still feel delusional here.

Failed schemes of Mormon settlers
To grow cotton in these parts
Re-echo below the bones
Of the white-laced sandstone cliffs—

Last summer’s wild sunflowers
Have collected a light snow,
Turning button-headed stalks
Into fields of cotton bolls.

In Happier Times

Some phrases have jobs, blue-collar

Specialties, there when you need them,

The same task, over and over.

In happier times, for instance,

Works strictly for photo captions,

Where it refers to whoever

Appears in the photo, always

Younger, sometimes singular, but

Often a couple, now and then

A group of friends or relatives

In happier times. Their stories

Differ, but the narrative arc

Is clear, even without reading

The rest of the caption or text.

The phrase seems the equivalent

Of one of those twee kitchen tools

With only a single function

In preparing one type of dish,

But it’s more like a laborer

For awkwardly specialized jobs—

Knife-grinding, say, printer repair—

Who still gets summoned casually,

As needed, but isn’t needed

As much as in happier times.

A Weak Point

It’s not just that might makes right.
It’s that might makes righteousness.

The more powerful you feel,
The more moral you feel, too.

Think. When have you been humbled?
When have you felt exalted?

In which case did you feel more
Certain of your moral course?

If you step back, you can see
Where this goes. Righteousness

Grows as power grows, and so
The opportunity grows

For injustice to be done,
Thanks to too much righteousness,

And to be enforced, once done,
By all that righteous power.

There’s no sinner like a judge,
Once a judge gets to that point,

And where saints possess the thrones,
No murderers like the saints.