the dark night

And of the dark night
The moon without quite understanding
Watches every animal walled inside itself
With no hope of escape
O moon, moon!
Clustering waves of purple thirst....

nothing mysterious

A butterfly in a truck flew by
it challenged my hardwon equilibrium
I should have gone for a ride before
the sun went down
but the phone rang and someone
said nothing
and hung up
there is nothing mysterious
about me
it's four thirty pm

the cool spot

those moments when
the flickering shadow of
transience
lingers
and contracts in the whirl
of our impenetrable
emptiness
our ragged hearts
need to get back
to the sailboat
in the attic
*
the moon was lost
in a timeless bit
of illusion
i stopped crying
suddenly
the frigid air
was inside
me
the blue patches of
snow were illumined by
mortality
as if i were someone else
walking away from a stranger
dividing solitude
was becoming a point of
orientation
and departure
with no way out
of the split
*
perfect skin
is on sale
in the basement
i read half of that novel
hopping around like a kangaroo
walking between raindrops i remembered
how much i love the beautiful fog
when i returned to the electric light
of the work world i thought
i don't bend over enough
i looked at my bloated
midriff
with inner vision
i sent a request down
to the basement of bones
i want to live in the mountains
in some unnamed country
sorry for the blank email
but then again i don't need frigid air
to find the cool spot
*
(with j. eaise)

acting skinny

at dawn i say
this day is not that old
a basic blue black
with a shy smile about to show its teeth
in time for breakfast
dream science explained the night's circus
to the fat man acting skinny
ask the matchstick man
when you see
a monstrosity whose mereness is itself monstrous
or a carton of darkness as empty as sin
but this is a heavy shoe~ you say as you finger the laces
then a group of shoes stand up immediately
all mine apparently
all wearing my apparel
and the same wallet with blood in its smile
on its tongue and on its nose
*