remembered

don't hide in the stream
don't hide in the meadow
you may never come out
and you won't be remembered

the day he died

in a box full of pencils
                 you hid your heart
you threw your lot in with
                 those discarded utensils

now a punishing thought
                 floats all around us
the smoke and the sunbeam
                 the needle and the feather

death is only as long as
                 the eye that never opens
life is only as long as
                 they're playing your favourite song

when you began

i thought you were dead and
i thought a lot about that
i thought that nothing mattered
never did
no one told me

when the sun
when it was
when you pierced me
everything ended
when you began

your red apple heart

under honey and fire

your red apple heart beats

the pulse of life (and

the whole blown-glass mystery)

through your perfect eyes,

let them open wide

let them fill the sky

as they always have,

two thousand miles

a sheet of caramel

an undying sunrise

one poem or five haikus?

you move into the light
you breathe as if melting
a bucket of coins

white and blue windows
slam shut like bullets
into a chamber

the rest of the night hangs
on an outcome you have
the privilige to announce

you have a choice but
you have begun to see
patterns in a random world

the blue sky delivers
blood to our hearts
like bread to our hands

the oddest thing

when did you say you were
coming back? I sat in a chair
for a long time

                           my white clothes
were turning blue my eyes were
as tired as old women
holding vigil and melting
candles

              the oddest thing happened
to me today

                       I stopped breathing
and your face appeared

chicken bones

Billy Marshall
                          had a name
right out of the Wild West
and a devil’s grin fat freckles
and messy hair

                            fat lips and
black eyes bloomed from his
dirty fists

                        we dug up a
garbage bag filled with bones
small animal bones a chicken
or a cat why bury an animal
in a garbage bag?

Billy Marshall
                         had nothing
to do with it but it felt like
his kind of menace

                                   it felt like
a bad secret like the PCP and
greasepaint scene from the
Mod Squad

                       the fear of high
school
                falling from the roof

the one who haunts your dreams
doesn’t know you exist

two poems

spider

tiny red spider
you dance on
skinny legs

like Picasso
crawling all over
a piano
            
             like a surgeon
pulling thread
through a suture



gasp

a break in the clouds a gasp
and blue paint falls just like a
sheet of rain

sea creatures raise their claws
over their heads and grasp the
cable that lifts them out

the surest way to nirvana is to
hang to death just ask jesus
just ask these fish