Monday, April 25, 2022

Below the heavens you go.

 Language could learn a lot from you—

Because you meander—


You get lost so easily.


You aren’t good, 

You hook and you have good adversaries.


Speak quietly and especially slow to me

How the rose rises from the exit wound

While the earth and heroism

Sleep.



South

 Are you warm enough, now?


Is the poll incendiary or the

Polder smoldering for some 


Supernatural reason?


Are you hot because life jolted you hot?


Were these feathers left on the floor to remind me

Of you—you, the Angel,

Me, the disoriented  bird?

Sunday, April 24, 2022

Icarus and Daedalus.

 The greater dream must look impoverished 

On the hill,


Beside the cows and rows of corn and

Sheep we count.


Once we fall asleep and the agriculture of sleep

Falls asleep too

There may be a moment—but just one and 

It’ll pass quickly—below—


You will grow from a seed to an aching tree

And the sun will set inside of you.

Thursday, April 14, 2022

The Blue Commandment

We don’t remember everything.


But when we meet it’s awkward, and there’s a

Lot we pretend to quietly understand—


We go home and dip inside ourselves, trying to

Pry it out, like change from the seat of a recliner, 

Or hair from a stopped drain.

There was an eleventh commandment

And it had something to do with the color blue:


Perhaps it was the pailletted aura of the sun and

The possibility that it was 

Point A in the whole sky.


Or, more likely it was how we ought to grieve. How 

The heavens should fill our eyes all the way,

And how our eyes should blink, too,

And thank the heavens.

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Spring.

 This dream is more science fiction

That the others. 


I meet a camel on the road to Damascus. He falls

Apart instantly, and I’m like why!?

Pretty soon the humps start convulsing and it’s dark

Outside. Blood everywhere.


I throw a saddle over his

Shoulder.

It’s gonna end. I’m gonna wake and he’ll be

Ok.

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

You are born grass-tall.

 I keep thinking about the glory of love

How it has holes in it.


And as higher functioning organisms we’re

Drawn to those holes.


We are and the light from outside is.

You are born grass-tall.