The Invention of Plastic/Sleeping In

I’ll betcave men caught forty more winksat the end of a night.Og may have said,as, at this moment, I yet might,“Hell with it, today!”since the breakfast firewas a bitch tolight. In cave days,folks had basic hurdlesand nothing more to dothan eat or make loveand sleep until the sleepingwas through.In this day,with complex social machinery,we makeContinue reading “The Invention of Plastic/Sleeping In”

At The Deaths of Two Children

At The Deaths of Two Children During a haunted day,heavy grey sketched shadow cornersonto a kitchen scene complete,where home’s Formica table,stood as balance point surrounded. On the sideboard,a wooden spoon dripped slow,resting, it’s brief battle done.The smallest voices echoedsomewhere off, amongmuchricherflowers. Shoulder to shoulder they sat,deep sorrow creasing more the browof these familiar witnesses,whose emptyContinue reading “At The Deaths of Two Children”

Moon Is innocent

What shines as moon isdead rock,in science theory coalescedof material cast from earthby the violence of agespast. Its surface cold,at core, like earth,the moon boils hot.That is, perhaps,why Shaman, priest and Gypsy claimthe moon has soul.It does not. The moon’s an empty mirror,round, reflective…staunch opponent to theover-heated sun’shurled invective.Between these twoare push, pull and season,jealousy,Continue reading “Moon Is innocent”

Revelation

Tired summer stripped off,quitting the trees earlier each dayuntil a disguise of green droppedin bold patterned,bright coloured skirts downaround bony knees. The hidden places are shown. It now appears to the naked eyethat beast and bird, by nature knowing how,built nests high,collecting bunches of warm things,dry twigs, torn fur, used feathers and,stolen from the nearbyContinue reading “Revelation”

Revelations

Flagrant summer strips offand the hidden places are shown,collected bunches of warm things,dry twigs, torn fur, used feathers anda plastic bag or two,floated from the nearby grocery. Beast and bird, by nature knowing how,built their nests secret, high,out of sight,safe against dark times, yet no matter how innate construction skill,all hopeful gathered homes aremake-shift, temporary,notContinue reading “Revelations”

Parameter Study

I thought I heard thepoet sing, the chanteuseand the preacher, too.Harmonic moments, I supposed,held music that had much to dowith love. I posited love’s point might bewhere song and heart collide,far from me, a mystery, beyond, below, above, outside, forunder my researching lens,the heart turns into meatthat only electricity canever urge to beat.

The Finch

I saw one Finch dressed sweet grey,belly puffed white,face of crisp dark charcoal,today. The wholeof some minutes,I watched the birdclutch a nervous branchof nature’s nondescript tree,ten feet from me. I did not know the birdas an individual,its self and shadow newto me,but the imageof all fast beating heartsand warm plumagesoftened any brutalsuffering.For a paused moment,IContinue reading “The Finch”

Who Is The Foolish One?

With typical obfuscation of fact,though no sea is near,we call these sea-birdswho drop sudden witha satisfying, compact splashthenreappear,shaking water from wingto flap upwards again. It is one final feast day on the greatlake and cooling shallows reappearwhere choking boats recent were. Summer has reached horizon,making the vast water and all elseapprehensive,yetappetizer fishswim easy. Why? AreContinue reading “Who Is The Foolish One?”

Baby And Bassinet

I dreamed that, as day roseabove the window-sill,an old clock radiodanced to life,spilledbad news,wokemeup. I lay then in bedsome minuteswhenI had an idea formaking a film, soI made a semi- rectanglewith both hands,the way directors doand looked through.. The scenewas of a baby comfortable,awake, but not distressedin a basinet, foreground. A landline telephone was ringing.Continue reading “Baby And Bassinet”