in today's mind gripping episode wishing wells and rendezvous gusto and
the waning moon
-On the Porch-
a peeling bow into a clear and humid night
remembrances of the reefs around gulfstream islands
phosphorescence racing in and out with the night tides
across dunes to the sea to dunes past the horizon
the sound and the smell of the crusted anchors at dockside
the mackerels running into plastic buckets on their way home
all on a porch in a landlocked city in the northeast
all on the porch where we sat and stared at our hands
_Saints in Sacks_
being a nun might be fun
you get to heaven when you're done
-Do the Do-
dervish in the spinning of silk
sweat pours on mahogany
like moonstones like dew
spicewoods that burn slow and smoky
the wine like the winter sun
dervish with a cloud at his feet
jangling jewelry of copper
of silver about a disjoint neck
fingers swim to cast a charm
the music pitched high to cease
the wool and silk blow the candles dark
-Straight Lines-
what happened next caused speculation
thrown down the well of reproachment
the idiot laughed from the echoing hole
wishing well to the highway's beggars
--------
waves song of ancestry lost
in dusty records out of order
wind listened before water
landing on a shore beneath my feet
-------
the water whistled through the trees
the wind upon the rocky shore
-The Women_
playing card expressions
with walks that do not swing from side to side
legs of thin trees
smooth as young elms in the young wood
spruce fills my lungs
like water heavy and cool as death
skin of pink marble
clothed in a coat of broken seashells
in a black gothic church
warm marble hands are laid upon my face
-A Short Report-
guilty was the plea
he was down on bended knee
-Saved For A Rainy Day-
to grow old in the old way
cold and bloodless as a fish
with a fish cold eye and a fish cold heart
the rain like tears though not salty
hair like cold and stringy ferns
shirts are torn like hearts
from the thorns of the badly chosen path
a boney back pressed against rough bark
in a rainy forest the damp and chilly way
to dash to the old home for safety
to dash for the old home for warmth
to dash to the light
to grow old in the old way
far from the thorns, the ferns and the fish cold heart
-Is It Dangerous?-
crawling along at curbside
with eyes as bloody as rubies
taxi cabs darting like small animals
busses fart in your face
my home is crumbling quickly
the pigeons are mechanical
dust devils of spring trash
a sun that winks on and off like a neon sign
is it dangerous as the prophets say
the apocalypse might happen
and nobody might notice
More