David Giannini

 
42 APHORISTICS                      
                                                     

Not every sky 
allows birds.

 *

If you reach a blind alley
give it the eyes of your eyes

*

Skip it!  Every stone has the right
to commit euphoria

*

Some dreams
can’t afford to sleep

*

When silence is the room
don’t bother it

*

Bullets ricocheting from stones
and killing the firing squad

*

My body’s only the projector
where is the film

*

If a soul is wrinkled
what seems real is also wrinkled

*

Some echoes are spitefully returned
to themselves unheard

*

Who marinate in spotlights
are condemned to be burnt

*

The last straw in the barn
was first cut from ripe grain

*

Whoever moves with grace
leaves no path

*

Infinity is the last
of its kind

*

Let your own arms hold
you first

*

Your shadow or mine
every shadow illuminates mime

*

Birds the first way 
earth spoke through the sky

*

If poetry paged you
what would you do

*

Even grasshopper sometimes has
a crimp in his leap

*

Mystery keeps on
investing its own

*

Down close to certain flowers
all excesses are sufficiencies

*

To void religion don’t solder epiphanies or
assume wonder wants to be joined

*

Wounds bring us
the greater beast in ourselves

*

True smiles
have no wills

*

A promised land depends
upon its premises

*

Certain memories
smell of light

*

Caboose can’t see until the bend 
the train wreck happening up ahead

*

Who feel life is horseshit
forget the horse

*

Vanity is to(o) fast
for glass

*

Calculus:   live long enough a head
may drop onto your apple.

*

As their ventriloquist
my ghosts talk only to me

*          
              
Water is closer to us
when it moves

*        
 
As in old lava fields there is
an extravagant coma of things

*

When smile-proof
I include myself in what is missing

*

Learning all over again
taking candor from a baby

*

At what distance do you
wake now from childhood

*

Wit defies death
but death defines wit

*

Not to forget the shadow 
of the grasshopper also leaps

*

North/South/East/West
Poetry’s the compass of respect

*

To live and die with the intimate inanimate 
of home and a coffin

*

No need to look back,
we create our precursors. 
 
*

An artist disappears in order to make
something else appear.

*

The last leaf
letting the tree—go.