Stare into her night blue abyss,
Fathomless answers emanate
Directly random
Photon streaking points.
She better mannered, merely covers
Earth's hunger
In layered violet bruises
To thin human souls
(As normal animals know
To not cast ironic eyes
At times doorstep
That chasm of chimes
Forged of radio minerals
Every instrument delects
)Upon sense of wonder
Eating my el cheapo burrito
Not many diners in the place
Two young women
College age women
Stand near me, viewing the menu grande
So many options they all look good
They stand and stand and
The tall blonde
Starts to take off her running jacket
But stops partway
So that only her nape and shoulders
Show ( that she's in fine shape
Her friend smiles at me
They glide away to order
At the bean counter I'm still
Engaged to my
El cheapo, demolishing it and those pickled
Carrots the fellow patrons
Take their trays over yonder
The jacket comes all the way off
Time to skedaddle I've had my fill
2018
In the twilight my love
Sun busts thru the trees
The world on its knees
Eager to please
No tricks up no sleeves
In the twilight my love
In the nite light my love
All groove in the grove
Moon warms in the stove
Crows circle the graves
As wind misbehaves
Your neck's rare display
In sweet twilight my love
In the twilight my love
Day wanes in nights snare
Moon lost in your hair
Parting its dare
So the stars can stare
In the twilight my love
In the twilight
My love
2018
SE PDX
She wept red gold, or hair
Over saxony her pipes
Blare, eardrums flare.
All men (her lair laid bare
Scampered, hares
Hurried too aware.
Harried her heir
Smelt iron: rust cares.
Under prodigious spiral stares,
She swept rare
Fields free of mares,
Hay-gold his wares.
(Hydrogen trains, Saxony)
Owning the concept of land
Conceptualizing the.land
Landing a concept
Setting a concept on.land
Owning up to a concept
Lend land an owner
End run around the land
A land of leased concepts
The lord and leash and the land
Grounding a concept
What concepts owe to.land
Is when
Land begs of map to own the.fold
2004
The dalles, oregon
that which sprung from soil, we turn to our bodies
made of oceans mad, which flung earth
out of star spit, drinking candles yes we are
tallow and the mortal tick, clocking illusion,
that which blooms of silence, we keep in jars
lidless and in search of a time, which seals the seventh
and becomes an octave, or sweet dissonance,
wicking up the brine of prehistory.
that which has no presence, we wrap in re-gifted
martyrs, eggs of ideas hard chiseled,
unable to make anything as beautiful as a child
or a seedling, or a stupid poem.
solstice 12-21-19
Free choice formed 3 daughters
Free choice sidestepped rattlers
Free choice had a field day
Free choice made love/work
Free choice took the road unhewn
Free choice the split rock flower
Free choice the will of time
Free choice expands universal laws
Free choice rows the rocky boat
Free choice interrupts stagnation
Free choice the priceless vote
Free choice wags the cog
Free choice deliberated liberation
Free choice grew up and moved in
Free choice the boots made for walking
Free choice a roll of dice
Flee as slippery can be
Free choice stands her ground her body
Free choice writes directions
Freely
