Paint The Corner of The Plate

If
I ever do take one looking,
flip my bat,
gesture at the home team's manager
with a throat slit or something similar,
it's not because I am angry.
It is because baseball bores me and
thirty one innings
is quite sufficient.

Every suicide is a retirement,
but not every retirement
is a suicide.

Sundial

Glance up
at the points above.  Tiny windows miles overhead.
On board the H.S.N. Yiinkf.  Automatic doors
at the gas station on Earth.  The news said
it was coming back.

What the hell is taking so long
to leave.  Three weekends ago.  Four?
The cops still come around.
Ritual 12:15 lunch break.  Oh fifteen?

Turn up the headset.  "Light pollution,"
pass the bills.
Take the smokes.  "Used to be able to see the moon-"

Exit.  What is that ship still doing up there?
Pull 1, flip it lucky, replace.

What does the sunrise look like from there?

Dance For June Sunset

The garden lamps rise for Summer the same way the sun
disco balls.
The moon
only glitters
when the stars are out too.
City life is far too brief.
Set a fire
in the backwoods
and see
what comes near
to play.

Dance furiously for the long and dog days.
Fall and Spring are nothing to me.
Celebrate extremes as the rainbow shows
what the I can't see

In person.

Know the transitions and familiarize.
How wonderful the dark.
How wonderful the light.
How beautiful to walk
with the wind against your back.  All ways
the wind with
intent on your might?

The garden lamps rise for Summer
in the depths of Spring.
The ground soft enough to mud your shoes.
The sprigs crisp enough to snap
without breaking.

In person.

Scream and yowl,
fink and howl to the absent moon.

Present.  A matter of time and
enough glass to catch a bulb.

Check shoe laces for blood.