Two Poems

Noelle Kocot



The loose elements, this striving toward the

Kingdom.  The body is a blessing.  I wait in

A foothold and bury the evidence.  For years

A lamb strutted around on a hillside, never lonely.

The milk of kindness is stirred in a gigantic pot.

My shabby clothes, the sheen of them in the

Moonlight, I remember what I used to be.  This

Is good, and it is also not good.  Aristocrats and

Barley are carried on a little donkey.  And now

We end up with taxi drivers walking by the sea.

The light raimant of my dark voice tells you a

Truth.  The world will pardon me for being foul

And mad for a time, yet the dogs bark softly until

The purple night wind is all but gone again.









It is always winter here, and the fear

Is just a crash into being tangled.  Gnarled

Sister with your lucious drunkenness,

We are not at the end of something. In

A small town by the river, I see ice, ice,

Winter, ice.  The snowy days, the small cars

Suddenly stalling.  There is no explaining

The unfaithful.  It is a technique to think

Of you, there, in that house, of you thinking

Yourself into a maze on the valley’s other

Side.  I am not the one doing the judging.

The birds fall out of the trees, and in the freezing

Rain, there is some music.  I am feeling around

Here for some smoothness, some respite.

What I find is that I almost hear the undergrowth

Creeping past us.






Noelle Kocot is the author of five books of poetry, most recently, Poem for the End of Time and Other Poems (Wave Books, 2006), Sunny Wednesday (Wave, 2009) and The Bigger World (Wave, 2011). She has also published a book of translations of the French poet Tristan Corbiere (Wave, 2011).  She is the recipient of numerous awards, including those from The Academy of American Poets, The National Endowment for the Arts, The Fund for Poetry and The American Poetry Review.  Her work has been included in Best American Poetry 2001 and 2012.  She lives in New Jersey and teaches writing in New York.