Otto the Octopus

Growing Up

Morning

Alone and looking at the sunrise
through a window, accompanied
by thoughts of so many people

my aunts first, my mother's sisters
living too far away
here now with me, early risers
coffee drinkers 
writing a poem,
touching beautiful 
nob-knuckled fingers to the piano 
while it gets lighter outside

two great poets, Frost and Angelou
they come when the blood is stirred from walking
under golden milkwhite edges of cloud
on a rainy morning

always you are with me here,
your little blue sock in my pencil bag
for luck

the neighbor's willows
that already sang into leaf
ahead of tonight's frost

and the Webb telescope
destined for deep space
to catch light from the big bang,
waiting in Maryland now
to be sealed and carried South

the person who has the job 
to drive ahead of the telescope
and watch for potholes

A Year Since the CP Diagnosis

The Window in my Office (in partial color!)

Presidents Descending the Stairs

Presidents Descending the Stairs


Carter and Clinton
Barak and Bush
still alive
still with wives

before giving speeches
descend an inner stairway
leading to the big stage.

We see on camera
a moment that seems private
only because newscasters hush
and the world watches as they step

their shiny shoes down
scuffle and slap of soles
feet shifting and slipping inside,
a chopping echo in the dim stairwell.

Presidential past, presidential 
future knees bend, two by two
top to bottom. We're struck 
dumb.

They're only people
walking steps
and yet

someone woke
more afraid today
someone woke
emboldened

to steps coming
down down down

a deadening
tromp tromp tromp




Jessica Newton Cooper
January 20, 2017

Records of Late

Sorry this is so late getting out. Our scanner went down for a little while in December and I slid into a state of inaction. Here it is, a post for January 2017!