Hugging the outside wall
as if a shadow
He sees in the dark, sure
a hint of motion
will converge the guards
It is my sudden and strong
Singing voice
they will hear, a fakir's
timeless mantra
on the Fourth Way
The saint has made gifts
of his adornments, turned
land over to the homeless,
and cloaked himself
in a beggars’ identity
Outside the gates of the city
that barred his re-entry
a crowd awaits the Wonderworker
and I fall at his feet, calling out
the 99 blinded names
The absence of death
is lostness of memory
The imposture
quickly justifies himself
Sad, that consciousness
Devolved
“A specific capacity to be redeemed”
*
What’s funny about love
You forget the details
remember the fall
that one day, you first
loathed yourself
You never had recognized
truth being Less
Human
drawing the animal
Spirit Card
seeing clouds as thickets
tall tree limbs climbed
to pry holes
for leafed cleansing
the moony sky’s sin
*
The horizon is a mouth opened wide
Its hunger paves the asphalt sky
Oiled seas’ rustproofing sticks
Shorebird feathers to bodies -
A smoke aggrieved diffraction
Pulling myself up and over
the overwrought boardwalk
At the vacancy of doors
(its society teeming)
fairground rides invert
the undercarriage
You find the mailbox empty
This being the surface of our greetings
Its irony repose of laughter
*
The museum keeper sorts and labels
Objects entrusted him, changing
Shows weekly, hoping visitors will not tire
of returning.
As they observe
objects, he observes them,
hearing a voice outside his head
“unbalanced” whose?
Labels and paintings
deliberately mismatched
*
What I miss other than you
is also you
Thunder God
indelible Lightning,
totem
each with a claim
on a thin electric Wand
of interruption
Piercing the fruitful
petroglyph
with a lot to ask
of elders, and a populace
poverty-stricken
*
I picked some lovely flowers for you.
“Don’t bring them by.”
Forests are the home of the imagination
Couldn’t get around it No matter what
Your life
Needs to approach
Your shoes
09/05/2024
