A Brief Intrusion

The dream
in which you shatter all of your teeth
into confetti
is still a dream.

One hundred and seventy seven yards,
give or take,
the couplings of train yard sound
the same as the tick of plastic gears
inside the wall clock.

The truce was a lie.
The range is live.
Hear a pin drop
and window panes throb.

Half of the way home.
Calm blue oceans.
Witt and memorized.
Can do spectrauma.






Island to island
and around the world
in thirty seconds.







Delusions.



Seams reveal the saw's path.


Spark to ember and ember
to dust.  The carts trundle on,
squink and squeal,
metal on metal.

152 cars, approximately 73%
scrap metal.  The rest, fluid tankers, painted
by the same tagger.  At the river.

There are many places to hide teeth if you want
to build a collection.  Personally,
I could take them or leave them.  My deal
is moving toward
a beak.  I'm not sure
if shedding teeth
is part and parcel
along the way,
but I'm game.

Racer's Vision (One Minute - Twenty Eight Seconds)

|            The first lap is to learn.
|---------The second lap is to pace memory.
|            The third lap is to press.

Ecosystem 400 Atmospheres

Turn on light
to see what has never
seen color.
Iris close.

Silt in focus and beacon.

Know skeletal
under pressure
           far from
                 what keeps warm.

            Aliens!



   20'000 leagues.
 


     where no one can hear you
                  cry.



           


           Laugh.
Stepping across and through the silt.
Snap the map.  Unfurled.
 Two clicks to the bar.
   I heard there was pool there.
        Spit spot, step in time.
             Sally forth
                      or something like that.

         All in all,
         make like a tree
         and leave

                      or something like that.

Silt

and
snow.

           Skeletal and blight,
           spined and black dish eyed,
           unless ultraviolet shines or
           a plain spotlight where no lantern has business.

                Tallyho!




    Above

      a shadow shifts.
  Heavy and wide as an
      asteroid.



            Light unable
                                         
                                       to close the distance.

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.

The Art of Fucking

Do you see
lines, points, and graph theory,
or
do you wrinkle the corner of a pillow
on your couch and curse the propensity
to insist the lights be turned off.
Confined to a time of day.
Manufacture anything
while you're at it.
Laugh over breakfast:
a lime and crackers and a plastic stripped square
of cheese.  Cigarette out
in a sneaker sole.  Blame it on the night.
Never trust an over eager high five.
Feel free
to shift little things in their apartment
30 inches to the left or right
while they are asleep.