Subject: poetry in motion
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Last night I dreamt I got a call from Bing Crosby he said "I dont know what
your feelings are about southern California are , but do you think you can
make it in April? I said " No I dig southern California" "Then you'll be
there? " he said I thought this is July , it's a long way to April but
told him "Sure I'll be there" he didn't say anything else then I hung up.
I said to my self " but Bing Crosby is dead , isn't he?"
that reminds me you must be running short of poetry so i'll send more to
re-stock after the valentines rush
-The Nature of the Sumac-
india with the twisted wrist
a spine of pointed frozen waves
branches fairly softly bent
feathery fanning summer's dusty noon
cicadias grind one note away
on a broken record shard
that lies on the same diamond pavement
by a sumac helpless shadow
the first scarlet of the fall
maroon berries birth recalled
wishful leaves on an autumn breeze
all the seasons twist my heart
-The Phone-
fakery on hand held above the head
atrophied on my knees
the pilgrims passed on the dusty path
i wish to ease the pilgrims sadness
questions without answers burn their bodies
they to the sky with their request
not at my filthy hand begging at their feet
begging for their charity
one hand raised palm to the sky
the glory of god
the other hand stepped upon
ah! the pilgrims progress
-Stop-
the cross is everywhere
the phone poles
one street past the other
the window up the sash across
the mouth speaks
the teeth lie
wires jolt the whipcracked throat
a spear the tire flaming around the neck
the knife plunging into the all too thin skull
my dogs are on you
how can you cry out
you are ripped to pieces
-Nation-
red clay ditch
windswept crossroad
general store ,railroad siding.
weeds. very flat.
after the first of the year ,
the bus will no longer stop here,
in Heavener, Oklahoma.
-Trying Avenue-
a walker saw a silent stoop sitter
he had that lost look of a man on another's doorstep
we will all walk briskly or slowly by
our parkbench backs will front the traffic
sliding in an elegant way down that backrest
until sleep so troubled overhauls us
only we awaken at dawn
big cockroaches charging into my face
a drenching rain of bittersweet regret
i guess i am that man sitting in your doorway
i guess i am stepping over myself
-Mantis and the Harmonium-
chinless
circle dance a reel
iced hoop and black top peal
a swollen cry of deluxe crime
ventilated frigid ball
a crater indescipacable bliss
a senseless grin
it worries me so
-More Like A Goat-
it is not force or the will
it is more like a goat
a shaking hand wrote a curious word
the box of gray gone stark
growth of a shocked hare
formented a plot against
your mother's bold vacancy
jeweled spark of harvest lost
tossed a seabirds snickered bark
olive leaf small refusal
fingered type written bones
harspiculean wing far flung
and gasped a crawling lump
coughed onto the whispered sand
washed by always the chrome tide
-High Regalingwhiviz Bang-
walloping arteries mayhem
pathetic faith warms me
tendering offers of the sweet
drawn down and back
flashing youth regained
then forgotten
a shabbiness of spirit
perhaps cured or terminal
training for a last bloom
of endless sorrow
-Handyman-
i'm here to fix your flag
i'll shoot it full of holes with my gun
i'll have some apple pie when i'm done
-The Farming Gentleman-
his wellingtons sparkle like tuxedo pumps
his tweeds reek of some heather stench
his belgian rifle is impeccable
his tomorrows are guaranteed
his dog is better groomed than his wife
his death will be civilized, even tasteful
mist will settle on his fields this evening
he will not be missed
thatt'l do piggy boy the poet retires
is it the purge of cool confession
it is hot with pity