Stacks & Text, June 2003, HTML, dimensions variable

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

I have offered smiles
with glasses of tea
And taken it back
Not just the tea

Blue and red is
What was seen
And between claimed
What instead was read

A thick black line
From pole to roof
And the talking line
Must be restored

I've taken life
And things to drink
And spit it out
To be restored

 


 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Brutal, the forehead,
To which the
Leaves say no
And the grass says no
And the shadow
On the branch
Is an invitation
To reconsider
Unlacing your fingers
From the hair
And open them
To see the
Weather and grooves
And the things
That they can do.

 


   
   
  
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
   
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
   
   
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 

 

What dumb luck
You lucky duck
She smells
Like heaven
And you get
To smell her.

What... a... line!
Smells like heaven;
Try using that
At the gates
Of Heaven.

Sniff your armpit-
Yes, you're alive.

The warm fragrance
From her neck-
Dinner is served!
I will take all
Of the cliches
That I can muster.

Loud music,
Feedback, is
A picture of
How much you
Want to smell her.
Warm coals,
Portabellos,
And laundry.

 


 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Wing, edge, cloud, or
1 + 1 + 1 + 1 etc., until
one zero zero zero
zero zero zero zero
And so on-
1,000,000,000,000
(that's one trillion)
Or more if one
Keeps counting.

Ants marching
And little wisps
Of air grazing
The tops of
Bay waves,
The sun she
Is beautiful to
Me, blinding, it is
More than I can
Count or know
Or hold onto.

I have walked,
And I have talked,
And I have balked,
And I have cursed
the world because
I couldn't understand
It and I have prayed
To the world because
I couldn't understand
It but it could
Understand me.

Blessed be the children,
And the animals,
And the sick,
And the afflicted,
And may your telephone
Only ring happy news.
I still don't understand,
But I will stand,
And walk and
Go home
Where I belong.

 

 

cccccc
 
 
 
 
 
 ccccc
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

What if we
Didn't have
To move and
Sat or stood
Or very slowly
Walked
All day or
All night or
Even just for
Short periods
Of time,
Patiently,
Quietly,
Contentedly?

Everybody says
Too fast,
Too much,
Too little,
Too many,
And yet we
Don't stop.

The tea steeps,
The sun dries,
The ear listens
Breathing and
There is room
On the sidewalk
For whoever.
Whomever.
Whatever.