Pale Wind 

Once, the fish swam in the night sky –
a galaxy inside her belly.

She bore stars and pushed out tears, recalling

The angry cycle of mourning the living.

I had the chance to talk with her,

a chance to travel around her galaxy.

I saw the cycle churning,

filling and unfilling her fists,

palms milk white.

I felt the pain safely escape away

from her memory, from the dark house.

Although she lost the tears,

the memory of it twinkles.

Dead and alive in her sky.

Astronomers attach no name to that time,

That spiral pattern.

That place ejected from her insides.

I looked at the fish finding his way in the night.

He broke out and fell

into a motion you’ll remember as no accident.

You felt it coming. The pale wind

reaching for him.

 
 

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Houses on Stilts

You are an EyeLand Catch like your neighbor’s great-aunt,

Nellie-Ann.

After the oily waves took bites out of your land,

your home deserves a Time-Out.

Be Proud Mary.

Keep on Pipe Dreamin and enjoy backyard barbecues

on the Fourth of July

even as the June Bug bites alligator skin before mother nature gears up her ammunition.

Mama and Papa’s Dreamers swing on the concrete porch

watching the Grey Mist below My Blue Heaven on this Grand Lyle isle.

You will find paradise in these Weathering Heights, just

Sip n Sea.

 

grand-isle-louisiana

White Stains

I’m too close.

I can’t close it.

The celestial dressing gown grows,

shoots looks of wisdom down on me.

My engine drums against my outstretched ribs;

bones pound at an angle,

they sharpen at the tongue of: harp strings;

their vibrations rip at my throat.

I can’t stop.

I can hear a mantra:

“Shine, you dark, dark skeleton.

Shine, you dark, dark star.”

My shapeless voice quivers and leaves

moonlight stains on the ears of flower buds.

 

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