Wednesday, June 20, 2012

6/20/12
the dogs you remember are gone
under/over
one trick or another took them to ground
and out the window now
where they ran
children
impossibly young
without being yours
nor progeny nor kin nor self
what then?
you inside waiting
for them to call you out
here boy
down the winding road
to the sea

--
8/6/12
The dogs you remember are gone
One trick or another took them under
to ground, and now,
out the window where you watched them run
are children
impossibly young!
not yours,
if progeny or kin,
never yours - not self,
what then?
you, inside, waiting for them
to call you out:
"here, boy!"
 to play
 or run
 down the winding road
  to the sea


Sunday, June 10, 2012


fingers bitter
like the pith of orange
earlier today I crushed poison ivy
to find out what would happen

once I chased nieghbor children with the stuff in hand,
it did nothing to me but turn me bitter
oily poison
so I laughed as they ran
like the stuff passed my skin to my heart
and made me
sting

now
the bitter like strychnine
what have I touched?
rummaging through old shelves
finding boxes thought lost
maybe hidden
did she know they were
and hide them
of malice
poison ivy
 or forget
like the poisoned pregger
too full to recall

6/10/12


No I
not am
dying and
these words
are always hers
longing ex
tolling
idolatry
as without
her these words
and cells
send the signal
blood flow
winter
does not sum
the whole of
silence
to come