And he is ready.
He was also part of
Your finest issue.
We can build hope.
Really got to.
Opening up to you
There’s always a thread.
You have made a Jackson Pollock
I am afraid
I don’t understand
your design –
I only see a colorful web
and trail of tears.
I want you back
Abalone, starfish, Rain –
I suppose I will permit them into the waves.
Before concrete arteries, oceans substituted in one large jar, the preserved animals
now kept under microscopes decayed
smelling like pickles and chlorophyll.
From the backyard of Western Biological,
bookcases store vegetables in filing cabinets
under the Pacific saliva.
As many as 100 encyclopedias attempt to
combine and separate
worms, urchins, nudibranchs,
to make a Picasso into a sensical Dali,
but we all know boxes don’t make sense
in a fluid body.
Cell walls are permeable,
rooms you can enter, float to and fro
exchange energy that is needed. Whenever you please.
Sit on a bench and ponder how the ocean spray
covers barnacles, seals, and humans
when dissection rips and fragments lives
“telling them very profound words to understand.”
Salty saliva drips from our eyes and their slippery pores.
It stings and it heals.
Flee to the attic, meet Anne Frank, scrawl your diary
day by day or minute by minute with a marker in hand
marking the peeling wallpaper.
18 is the magical slope (if you’re into math).
Meanwhile, theater balconies terrorize the back of our heads.
Bullets push for center stage
“Look at me! Stop your folly.
Here I am. Look at me.
Look at my
hot metal skin
through red, white and blue
Flee to the attic, I will not follow
there are no eyes to witness
Hand-held hearts, unpinned and thrown
into faces – above the cellar.
How can I sit here in my bathrobe
watching funny TV
while the City of Lights is snuffed by grenades,
gun powder, bombs?
An entrepreneur enters the Shark Tank,
a terrorist targets a cafe.
Death tolls rise.
A soccer game hears booms (just the ball, right?)
Stitch the borders, close the Metro.
No one gets out alive.
“This is Hell.”
My image of you:
A marble in orbit
around the ballroom floor
like a smiling astronaut
trying not to panic in a locked up space.
Gloom and doom, together in the endless land,
you are in a locked up space and your legs,
they run in place.
My image of you:
A silver horse, a cosmic gallop
around the sun in a metallic chariot
trying not to panic
in the feverish space.
Gloom and doom, together in bedazzled illusion.
you are in a feverish place
and your reins, they imprison your face.
Barn frames. Splintered and glorious.
Colonial American flags, rusty red, not royal in hue
protrude from the frames.
Behind the red wood,
cows laze in hobbit land and fields
in verdant seas.
Father and young boys
dip their fishing rods
in the lake.
A mallard rests near by on the burning pavement
leaking oily red.
Down the road and a bend in the bridge:
Eggs for sale –
oval yard sign stands by the wood mailbox,
a mini-fridge holds eggs on the porch.
The mallard hatches to heaven.
I want to tell you
I live on a thin raft
constructed far from shore
in a Western reverie
where Pharaoh voices crescendo and narrow beats escape
a singing river – full of friends waiting
to tell me, with dry sand cemented to their fingers –
how the thin raft has escaped.
And my chest is hard.
I want to tell you:
the strange morning is opening;
time for reorientation.
I still need you.
Jam. Jamb. Iamb.
sssssalt aand PEP!er
Pep!er and sssssalt.
made of rasp, rasp
berry and lavishing
Who is he? I prefer not, Bartleby.
Sit next to jars and basil pots (not walls)
Leafy leaves leaving the edge
of sticky marmalade jars.
Herbs and spices, boxed up
spoons from forks from knives from sugar sleeves, from me with love.
The black napkins don’t even stand a chance. Wipe my sticky
rasp rasp berry lips. lined with lavAshing LAVender.
“Do you have smoky butter?”
Not in here.
Rust red smear below your eye,
must be a tribal mark
of the blood wolf
or thirsty vampire
who hides in a coffin
things he carries.
Poppy red dots, liquefied lady bugs,
Morse code on your pillow
of an internal war
that only wants the white flag
raised to the light.