air rifles
to commit a crime
ahead of dawn all crisis arrives
to say it’s no good
offer a plan to better outcome
the stars come together
to dangle strings and pieces the needed
crumbs of bread to soothe longtime
hunger tooth waggle in the mouth
promise to keep healthy
hardy dedicated and well
butter and salt dark black leaves
flickering on the pan
he takes stabs into silence
high dives to an empty pool
oceanic feeling for volcanos of
unwanted color steam pocketed
placed prominent in the mix
it looks like the mind traipses
easy when gazing at a vast sky
and it moves fast
but a knot is tied tight on the money
this isn’t fight or flight but violet energy
staying vague
simple syrup
poured into saucer cup becomes
a helmet for
grief
noise picks up
another storm
air rifles wetlands open
for another season
seaside at heart again
where it keeps on fresh fish ice
time apart
time apart commands
in situ so the
elephant may ride
pungent smoke
through a gate of
compacted leaves
fire lifts
soul off surround
into moist nostrils wet with gum
then up
a scabrous length of leather pipe
curled around my
shoulder
spend the night in a hostel
searching haze
for a better way
on
silence
makes a brick and mortar wall
placed a yard
ahead of
triumph
singing back at
golden blare
at my ears
smoke screen
couldn’t care
its hazy hat, settles down
the brow
the incline of ash
we would have thunk
if it was in our power
time apart
a trek to empty pond
each pad lands with thump
shakes the quiet camp
staring back at
a shifting green brush
a loose blue sky
pampered by flights of
hummingbirds
flight for focus
a feeling, fossilized
and the future I miss
am I prey to the last?
look into its yellow eyes large
supple with life
for the health of the species continues
despite a bad forecast
pounds
against ground
with terrible legs to deliver
the power of
the heavy grace
a window into the soul of grass
spoken fresh from an ancient dish
it worries me not to know
to not know
to sit at the trailhead, positioned to
ride
covered in darkness
thorough as a broom
the dark ballroom
bush of fear
. . .
time is the wicked word
of the demon in power
lord wish you again would come
back again
we see sunrise the ocean groan
in its regular corner heavy with snow
jagged grey teeth and a mask
thick with red paint
can’t feel their fingers any longer
pressed against cold glass
each eye has everything to gain
by looking on, to not look away
immanence reveals night, and in it
the play first notes touching other notes
coming close to the edge of a new city
the mayor waves back for you to come in
down the line
with negroni chase negroni, we’d be other
than l’amour we’d run doubled down
over set aside
the average game is hard to watch
its total outcome never counts
would-be existence slips ‘neath decades-
laden guardrails, which
though lame shine brightly real
if light is piecemeal, may it
collect
if these papers must dry then help
them unfurl completely
I see decision as the struggle, not pure
of people singular distinct
those who make day and work
in each a separate space
