He is the king of a rain-country, richbut sterile, nothing but an old wolf’s itch,one who escapes his tutor’s monologues,and kills the day in boredom with his clubs;nothing cheers him, golf, Fox News, McDonald’s,his people dying by the balcony;the bawdry of the sycophantic staffno longer gets him through a single night;his bed of fleur-de-lys becomesContinue reading “Trump”
Our hands begin to see; Our teeth grow soft and slip easily back into the gum. Bodies, like suspended drops inverted, dip to each other; Petals tender as rose burn. A heavy bell swings to sound and stops while frozen on the skin sleep dark-holding moves a wet machine, dilated, trembling at verge.
A writer finds he has no words for what is rising in his gorge, that he wears small pieces of the dead like jade rings in his body. Once held to cure side pains, the stones, like so many things, are now mere ornaments. So too with words, some precious symbols lying in dormition, dyingContinue reading “[A writer finds he has no words]”
Half empty, another shot; Half serious, love and anger; Half a loaf, life a little less Late at night before the fight I know is always coming. Where do we go from here Is always the question And the mindless, meaningless Answer as the pendulum Makes it’s dumb arc marking Nothing but time and tidesContinue reading “Got the Drop”
Isn’t solid ground Or a bar of gold Or an Oracle The Song of Songs Is an empty bell And a rose is just a rose
In a house full of open doors One closing feels like an blindfold Full of noise and no time for sleep Sitting alone after midnight Listening to you breathe careless Dreamless dark distances fill the room This part isn’t love it isn’t anything But disappointment and solitude In the promised land broken and lost WithContinue reading “Fighting for breath”
When you return tonight Slow tired and warm with caresses And kisses I’ll sleep alone Apart from your crowded voices And mad loves’ abandon This tempest tosses my mind Like a lost wing and loses my way In the flittering dark And the slow black below like An ocean of still divers
The asymmetry of science and religion Is so great the two can scarcely share a line. The truths of the former stand undisturbed By the latter, no matter what its claim may be, While religion falls and lies, enraging, daggerfull At every pinprick science incidentally delivers.
Every green, running water, And a thousand voices singing Stars that cross the night. Tribes come down like shadows To make castles in the sand. Here we were, a minute warmth, An hour’s embrace, quiet days And nights of eyes brighter Than bright — fires, dancing, Sighs, looping paths in the dark. A long roadContinue reading “Soup Every Morning”
Like the bird fighting a wire, This flyer cannot run by rail And falls, fluttering, well down A tunnel steeper than night. Lasting peace is always late, A soft embrace like moonlit Horses running away, subtle As a dream at dawn — lost.