Longer poem, Uncategorized


Oh good
I want honey

I want to be in the future

When I have lots of money
And the perfect sunglasses
That would be a neat trick

Maybe meditation or drugs
Would show me
If that desire was for you

You speak so plainly
To newborns animals and the dying

If the thing I really wanted
Was for you to talk to me

Instead of
That old ragged
Construction-paper of a kindergarten cutout
Fire raging forest
In my chest
(Psalm-like)  “Hallowed Father, Can’t I just take a break?”
And this restless leg syndrome!

My feet and calves bleating
To walk the trail

To the Father
In all things

To the Mother
All things are in

To the Child
Becoming all things
I forget to be clever

And puzzles resolve
Around the piece
As I lay it down

I beg to be fooled
Into singing new songs

I make way

For the creaking harmony
Of old age

The wind in the trees
Is their gurgling thirst
For graves

I sleep

Under every passing bus



Become fertile

The Mother says:

“Stay immutable,
Sweet baby-spirit”

And the Mother says:

“Stay sexy,