Monthly Archives: September 2012

Fall Bride

october is all orange
the outdoors are a cool
blanket glow
one colour
of earthly existence
waiting for the
white approach
and blue ice frozen
in blackness
i hibernate for
no one
my love warms our
bed and the sidewalk
walks us in continuation
a loop of a song
in jackets and denim
the fall is
ours
when nothing dies
or sleeps
where it all hums
-and we know the
words

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banjo fishing

fishing in the sunlight
Morning –
with a banjo

foot thumping speakers
Afternoon –
the boat shadows the fish

under a tree in the shade
– Beer
cold, cap corn for picks

cottage in the red maple
-Banjo
resting on the deck

fire crackling the fish
-string roots
strumming a hum, feet: boat happy


While I Wait Outside During Her Interview

The ocean is in my truck
cylinder bottle
375 ml
1/4 Massachusetts sand
we’ve kept it here
for safe
keeping
since our trip
to Boston

*

There’s
2 young
student runners
talking
in the
college
parking lot
one
is stout, Asian
dressed in
whatever –
the other
is a
drama queen
talking about
her
boyfriend
while the first
one smokes –
the italian? queen is quite
loud
wearing a more
professional outfit,
shows off a
nice ass
but leotards so
tight
you can already
see the
dimples coming
in
that should
belong to
a 40-yr-old

no offense –

– some taken

*

The ocean in my truck,
i roll up the
window
ignore
Smokey + Dimples
and just watch
the bottle
noticing how
calm the salt water is
today


White Feather

white feather drops
Angel?
black feather drops
Crow?

1:30am
She talks in her sleep
‘they are leaving now, through the tunnel’
Night light flickers, briefly

the house is a museum of, world travel
Opportunity taken hangs from every wall
wasted life here, was never ‘tasted’
Soon everything will start over

morning, a few hours before life begins
Her mind goes over interview questions
my mind is a train in steady rhythm repeating
‘I know we can, I know we can, I know we can’

it is a tense calm
The hurry up and wait phase
in the waiting, comes certain understanding
In the hurry, comes even more questions

White feather drops
angel?
white feather drops
Angel


Furnace

5:59am the furnace clix in
Each morning a minute sooner
winter has an indoor clock

white frost on the green grass
Brief winter for ants –
all other fairy tales

arm behind her unmeasured waist
Clay drops to the floor missing brown bowls
the sculptor hears the furnace – click in

the grey sky is an optical illusion
It catches you looking downwards
you must look up, HIGHER!

the fall bride in white
Her pictures should be in b+W
it will make the day, timeless

6:03 am the furnace clix out
The clay is not yet room – temp
winter worries the model-army-ants


My Hawaii

belly buttons
they are the origins
of it
all
they are pangaea
deciding
how things should
shape themselves
outwards-or-around
(things)
all information and
strength
was fed through our
beings
right from
scratch
through this gateway
our inner
world
now capped off
and visually
exotic
yet un noticed
to the rest of
the continental
drift…….


Basics

looking through the
lens
who is looking back?
my own
reflection
or the eyes
of God

landscape of the
mountains
behind me
furrowed land
under my
bare feet

but i don’t farm

perhaps He is
hoping to grow
something
under me

Why does His
one eye
scare me?

A direct
examination
while i ask
too many
questions

and i know He knows
i’m thinking
get behind who –
our eyes locked like
this
direction lost

I wonder where
the sea is
usually He visits
me
and I know
water is nearby

not furrowed
ground
and
mountains

perhaps this is
the beginning
He is planting
Eden again
I’ll see Eve
and blush
or pass Adam
and ask him
about my brother

i’m back looking through
the lens
my world is behind
me
this world
is His

transported

He’s just letting me
know
despite it all
He’s listening
and there is more

beyond it all

beyond what I know and ask
in this/ in it all

the more begins
with the basics

the necessities

no more – no less


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