empty bowl

Now that winter’s gone
I sit by a slow river
come here every day
a pair of mourning doves coo
how long will I have to wait?

trouble

winds strong or gentle

diminish not the waters
nor wear away sands

neither shall adversity

carve out spirit from a man

desperate sideshows

atop a great rock
we watched smoke
curl off the horizon
a sudden urge—
I leapt a fissure
three feet wide
thirty feet deep
mistook her fear
for desire

up a mountain trail
pool beneath falling water
we leapt boulder to boulder
her bare legs trusting everything
but someone else
you could fall
I dove deep
currents pulled heavy
strength almost gone

rooftop bar
in Morogoro
I pointed out a ledge
if you see me climb out grab me
stars burned bright
the conversation—  noise
I knew he would fail me
that’s why I picked him

crammed into speeding taxi
rumble of gravel
no elevation
dawn’s dwindling stars
hands on my legs
all of them shouting
stop the car
halfway to the roof
my final act foiled

Sorry, I've been hacked by an automated WTF generator

Oh great, I've lost a flat tire,
I can't even start the electric potatoes.
Who opened the doorknobs and let all the carbohydrates out?
Please, turn down the piano it's getting yellow,
can somewhere smell me why the hell is turning at?
A.P. everthought,
I'm feeling alittle timezone.
Maybe? is something on this?

deep the blue

i long to taste a mermaid's songs
siren lips melodious
to wreck upon the ribcage of a shore
be dashed into the cavernous sea
to unfurl my hungry sails

Winter's last

upon March late field
an evening snow lays down blue
all the gravestones gone

Venus de Milo

arms
                        of modest line           
                                                   contour

                        pure


how her hands

                        catch her skirts
                                          
                                                                fingers
                                                                     without blemish

some unintended sorcery

I woke last night
realized it must've been Jim
my co-worker who turned my eye
who was always turning my eye.

I suspected some overnight chaos
rattling objects on my desk
averting its gaze left or right.

In the beginning
I didn't know it was an eye
picked it up in a parking lot
walking to work
milky white quartz
smooth and round.

For a long time
just a stone on my desk.

I colored a black iris
never thought of Jim
working late into the night
all alone
with a stone eye.

at the end of time

in barkless tree
a great nest of silverware
knives interlocked with forks

in uplifted spoons eggs turned stone
against an empty blue
no circling silhouette of mother
strange bones strewn beneath

driving from the beach

still picturing her beige one-piece bathing suit
aching for her smooth wet hair
the sand clinging to her feet
the cool transparent water
where she floated
beyond Summer's afternoon
in blue sky above pines

sharps

the old piano
at Winter's picture window
waiting there for me
it's time to learn the black keys
unravel the vernal chord

words

written on egg shells
heavy words like recompense
glued to a canvas
as I listen to her voice
all the empty years dissolve