The lonely bed is broken
toss and turn, fold the pillow
to crush against my chest,
love letter bookmark
reminding where I was,
the sleepwalk tv painting
blue bias oases on the ceiling,
your flavor haunting my lips.
There is no sleep only
your overwhelming absence and
its presence in my every sense
the warm salt of your bared throat,
the ink upon your arm...
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Comes a time that the blue of
the sky meets the blue of the mood,
comes a day when we don’t
write it down, the measures
that we keep for comfort,
the wishes that we lose
among the clouds, the stars
lost to constellations, the moon
always changing its mind.
Still, I sit and stare
overwhelmed or unaware as
the crows take wing or the...
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The afternoon just showed up, the day half hearted and indecisive about the overcast, a flag planted in uncertain soil. I sip black coffee, the steaming mirror on its surface full of trees and ripples. The hands stay unsteady, the ache just spreads. I am a camera, I am a box of magnets, I am the engine running down. The season blows some leaves around....
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Throw yourself upon my senses
with the simple saying of your name,
the light changing and the sidewalk
witness gone to ground. Hurl yourself
thick and slow, sweet and sticky
across my thinking with
the clinging of your written words
still mingling with the grievous
beating of my heart, the gooey
phrases and written kisses
all that I could manage,
all that I am made...
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The leaves ignore the season,
dying in brown bouquets
bunched in the fists of branches,
waving at the restless empty
heaven always was, waving wild at
the clock watching sun.
Trees seeing with their
inward eyes smooth blue skies to
drowse below as you settle
between soil and sun,
vigilant limbs in fitful meditation
the world in how it’s taken.
It all goes away, the...
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The sun just sits there
saying nothing while
the sparrows rush the feeders,
the trees swaying wild
in the dreams of the drive by wind.
The light stumbles down the stairs,
the day lands hard upon
the humiliation, shining
all akimbo awkward,
dimming and bright enough to
silhouette the scenery,
leaf and limb, wing and feather
as the distance dives farther,
away another word
filling...
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I try not to pay attention
to the date or the hour,
the numbers never add up
and we’re stuck on today.
So I fill my belly and
watch the signs,
the stacking of the dishes,
the raptor above the pines,
dogs pace and flies gather in
that long last light,
the afternoon a shorthand as
the earth bows and bows.
Doves and squirrels
to...
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Halloween has left its thrills scattered like dead leaves, no tricks or treats, just a bowl of candy and a blue moon loosed. The days scrape and scatter, false flags and empty bags and the aspects of the season. Sunlight spills through a dusty window, dancing motes and the last deeds of flies framed with the weight of curtains and the warmth that’s all but...
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The days don’t do much to withstand scrutiny. A few spent words, a handful of receipts. The lyric repeated again and again as your heart raced your hands. The rapt horizon and the goodbye glow. Squinting west through sunshine eyes, thinking of your skin. Your shoulders in a certain light. The riot riding on through. Stories told to stories, down to the world in silhouettes....
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It begins with the water blue biased
sky quiet amid the still leaves
clinging dead to the loft of
limb and reach, the bright
beyond the haggard crown
this ancient engine turning over
water drawn roots on up
this constant exhalation
the work raising the water
above the earth, stretching
plumes to stir the firmament
the trees waving as they dream
the earth at prayer...
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