Terraforming

If it were my world people would purple
If it were my world the alphabet would explain all you need to know
If it were my world scowling would be scofflaw and pot sacrosanct
If it were my world wars would be creampie-fought by clown clad leaders
If it were my world love wouldn’t ache but being an asshat would itch like a cat

SMS < 3

The slice of mind pie consumed isn’t proportional to time spent

Longlean open Lightning

teslas my skin

kiss my back

Your morning sounds a warm bowl of home

Adore, not a door No, you’re a door You

open & new vistas I see:

Lotus blossoms river-roll a valley. A single cloud thrust through murky waters on a starscattered lake. A finger on a thigh. 3 moons in a violet sky.

nothing to say

I have the urge to say things

There is another universe, very

close, so close that everything

exactly sames; everything; exactly; except

we are drinking hot chocolate together.

I take great comfort in that.

And: I watched your eyes work your lips like marionette strings. Lifting your meat puppet to action

The best sort of writer’s block

Poets are a funny tribe — scaling heights by plumbing depths;

my pages lay fallow my pen wadi dry

I’ve written through my saltwatered time &

my concepts are crystals cutpolished for clarity and shine &

Gee Dubbya isn’t president &

I’ve been too busy fucking to write a poem

Oh sure the world still injustices and needs a poet’s utter

& sure some ideas may need a spit & shine &

lovescars can crack again like bones brittled by breaks & bruises;

life can offer kernels poetic from places unseen &

no doubt it will

but today today today

I’ve been too busy fucking to write a poem

& yes Erato you can be the ficklest bitch

amused to be wooed

with sacrifices of salt & blood

but today today today

I’ve been too busy fucking to write a poem

& it looks like it’s gonna be

that way

tomorrow

conception: love

horrific & terrific

once meant the same thing

Jazz Diamanté

cool

assured aloof

muted flowing easy

trumpet saxophone blueness blaze

fingering flying enflamed

intricate furious

hot

A September Sonnet-6 months later

ok - now it is not 6 months, but 8 years later.....



A September Sonnet-6 months later


I’ll try to tell you everything I know.

I find I cry at stupid things these days,
wiping surreptitious tears away at
the end of every television show.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
My love, the future, has arrived at last.
Crazy time is spinning honey fast,
that is, unless it’s dripping acid slow.
21st century started this way:
Supreme Court declared democracy’s death.
Some motherfuckers blew some buildings up.
They tell me silence is the best thing to say,
but great lungfuls of music can’t be corrupt -
each day is a poem, created by breath.


March 11 2002

Clumsy

You dropped a poem & stood there — looking lost.

You dropped a poem & stood there — looking lost.
The audience sat in silent sympathy.

You dropped a poem — dropped a poem in the woods. yeah
Mmm — You dropped a poem, dropped it— in the woods.
You dropped a poem poem right in the woods — hmmm.
Since that time, girl, it ain’t been no good. no no
been no good. 

You dropped a poem like a DJ; dropped it
like a bauhaus breakbeat BITD
in a Brooklyn warehouse where sweat & ecstasy suspensions mist
the air the way clouds whisk by windows landing
at LaGuardia on a rain-soaked afternoon.

You dropped a poem in the woods. Did it
make a music?

You dropped a poem & you dropped
again & then again
hanselgretling your way through;
Did you honestly think those crumbs
could lead anywhere but the oven?

You dropped a poem when you dropped us.

You dropped a poem in your sleep
& it fluttered by
like a butterfly on gossamer wings
O! the beauty

You dropped a poem just because it didn’t phone
you on your birthday.



You dropped a poem & the concrete
cracked, the chasm chunking
open with an icebreaker crunch
& the collapse can continue
until civilization ceases to matter.

You dropped a poem — dropped a poem in the woods. yeah
Mmm — You dropped a poem, dropped it— in the woods.
You dropped a poem poem right in the woods — hmmm.
Since that time, girl, it ain’t been no good. no no
been no good. 

You dropped a poem — I picked it up.
Anything can happen.