Sticking out like a carriage in a crowd
clawing at the underbrush sweating sour peach
An interbreed of Irish moss and dirt I've eaten-
dirt i've known and seen and dreamed.
And after cold-water baths,
after i greave gravel's breath
I could wander down the path you left
of helicopter seeds and salt.

It's either Mexico or New Jersey

Half drowned waiting lists lit up freshmen wide eyes fresh men, fresh body sweat swallowing streams under his half-hearted stained writing. I am interested in their conveluted conversation wrapping itslef over and over under and under never coming to and under fleshy tones with hues of blue and gas blackend by the back-end wealth of their economy I am sick. I am covered in satin and silk washing my arms in the over-head light while children wade in the water i spill.

In my study of human limitations

Wallowing shirtless birds
circling over-head my outdoor shower.
Heavy heels
Sit still
two hours.

November

Dawn birds fly over glass table-tops Into Tree shadows in my Woods.
Three shadows snake through swallows nests sour still from blue empty waves-and
I almost forgot Margot laying there,
swaying there with the leaves.

May 20th, 2008

Staring straight, slightly to my left
I am caught not once but three times by Her
(The Mother)
She grabs at the rain-soaked coat of a loved toddler girl with twists and twirls the train cannot hold their ever elevating song.
I watch kisses and eyes closed- eyes open- offering some last-minute wisdom.
Baby girl tangles pink plastic snaps in her hair and I am watching in time-lapse blinks because i don't want to stare
But i do.
My burden to bare is to bare your burdens.
I am anticipating his next move because i see the right foot tapping Down they come with my heart in their hands, squeezing it so very tight my eyes start to vomit salt water onto the insides of my glasses and my stomache aches. And my feet hurt.
And my head is rattling so hard i am certain it will burst-and then-
eye contact again.
Jesus, why can't i get this one straight-The Mother must be inside my brain helping push whatever thought.
Next thing- I lose it. I am too busy thinking of not thinking i missed my poem.
Selfish bitch i am to use these people for prose.

Missing Robin, and this is why

moo

Underlying sour salutations, inquisitions
I am forced to figure, forced to swoon my docile brain cells into action
why your message has such inclinations, i do not know but i am certain
and yet quite confused---
so yes i am unsure, i am feeble and weakening with every word
but it is you who taxes me so, so feel at ease, young neurons
these feelings won't last long.
But
I am sure of Cow's milk, and then some.

Mary

I've come to know Mary quite well.
She and i sit to discuss the happenings of wrinkles and failing hearts on our quaint Philadelphia park bench. For instance, there was a man sipping earl grey resting quietly with his son, both of their feet tired and bare.
Sitting within earshot we learn the two Men only recently found eachother to be blood-related but have always been the best of friends.
I turned to let my ear be known & framed my lips over the Fathers as i asked him if he was familiar with my Mary.
He opened his pouted weathered mouth and whispered into my open ear,
"Mary was my Mother,
my lost Sister,
my late Wife,
my aborted son..."
He paused, pensive, eyes closed.
"Mary was my consience & my inner-child"
His son then wept as i was already showing my Mary to the door.

Untitled

2 blocks from the West-Bound train

Walking hastily home I prayed.
It had been a while so I stayed clear of cracks & kept my chin towards the bulding tops.
Frown lines beat my yellow teeth so my jaw lowered and the wind grew great.
I saw God in a young girls eyes.
They sparkled like my Mothers rings
they grabbed at my coat
they starved for my smile.
Full heartedly & half awake
I gave them what they wanted.

49

The February moon behind the cracked wood

reminds me of Her skin & teeth-

Failing to forge my own address I concour my admirer.

Fleeting, fumbling, hands in the air-

I am just like that long haired woman.

I am just like a child.

I am Just.

I am.

growing pains

when ignorance was bliss

talking, laughing, boiling water

without knowing, without warning

i am washed with silly news

first, "that fucking idiot"

then, "what the hell did i ever..."

finally (i laugh) "that fucking idiot"

that new chapter

Lengthy love letters fall with the leaves
loosen your belt and
light the oven for his peace of mind
don't forget the pine cones,
you know how he loves that smell
lay down the warm pavement for his feet and
watch to the west.
Withering willows will signal his coming
water basins beat with the hearts that stay.

Can't stand wet hands

he can't stay past springspoiled by the city smog
needs to see the trees turn green
where will you go?
with your brother in Richland
he has a house and
the work doesn't bother you.
I think i'd rather have the winter last
until i'm thirty or so.

I've been meaning to fix that

Fasting, passed out following the kitchen floor

Lucid dreaming, still i take a "tonin"

Following fast swallows winding through the conditioned air

Cats in constant battle.

I came home, i left.

I wanted to hear words that weren't coming.

It's always two o'clock before i know it.

Thats why i go to bed at ten.

tea

she's sitting across his field

in a stainless steel satin dress

wheat grass hair and feathers for feet

she's my mother

she's every woman i've ever met.

Rabbit

It's that intuition your Mother always warned you about

It was spelled out in electric candles and in your face

Forgiving, lusting, flowering, flowing

And following close behind was that rabbit

Following close behind was that fucking Rabbit.

Lucky i am to have noticed his presence

in a room full of flickering electric candles.