footsteps 2


after a lifetime spent
in the world of automation
actively shagging myself out of a job
the goodbyes roll freely
from my tongue
the hellos hardly worth sharing
my hammer swings
without rite or rote
the backwind puzzling
to whom would I impart
the science of disappearance

the merlot triangle


put paper into confetti
and then they are little minutes
composed and graceful
as they float into existence
their tides high and cold
their locus bought and sold
they are me, but they used to be
someone in the line of life
somewhere within a shower
of sparks and party lovers
but the end was low
and I was alone alone
ready with my tummy out
wrinkly hands and needy child
so selfish, so so hard
to be spoken within
a thousand tongues
that fluttered through
a gentle breeze
sparkled on concrete
to frieze art as love

to catch a feather


inside a fading world
staving off the desperate grab
at time and money
with a few more illusions
pounding away at the forge
that a lifetime of hard work
could not grow
and it would snap me like a twig
and there are so many hands
I dont even know
holding them out

tv tower for a warrior poet


was a call to arms
in a den of snakes
but when ive shed enough skins
and gathered careful flowers
chasing the child around
for children make the best bouquets
of untouched perfection
and its silver and magenta
darkness and disco
salt and storm trail
my stomach starts to turn
my fingers grow electric
frightened to let go
but its already alive
im already not

 

the time bind


of many courses
she doesnt age well
isnt the jewel of the morning light
or a beacon of any hopes
except contrived anomaly
the echoes of motors past
her will her hand
wrinkle and fade
her tongue loud as
saw on metal
without charm even in this age
of the seeker
her ceiling is glass
her cradle is glass
a constant sparkles
down her every path

 

the unbearable likeness of being


in a rational sort of way
with love and compassion
for the fellow creature
floating hope with laughter
huggings and beautiful things
comfort and conversation
family and friends
forget I lost a mate, a father
this slow and rapid aging
the lightning flashes
of roofs, paths, plans, people
of walking through a cloud
with a child by the hand
projecting occasional veneers
of success and belonging
with a deadly fear
of slipping

 

grim fandango


moonlit branches of the gallows tree
that fanned a storm of limbs
showered leaves like green fireworks
a tremulous memory of sunshine
guarding squares of chain link tennis court
memories of flow on common ground
faster than descent and gathering
holding hands and dusty stars
warm and motionless