I see you walking all alone
So many places, I've seen you roam

Far uptown, and downtown too
Sometimes, I see you someplace new

I often think, I'll ask one day
What makes you walk all that way?

I wonder what your thoughts might be?
I've seen you look right at me

But, you just turn your head and walk
If I stopped, would you talk?

I think about your solititude
I'd interrupt, but it might be rude

What would you say, should I question?
What makes you walk, in this direction?

stand here greedily
spilling jewel grains of
honey colour sugar

damn you

this distance
and yet intimacy
warm like an amulet
riding on the ribs

here we go trying to
pick a stir stick
its too much this choice
it has to be the right
one

singular and similer
as the others

then stir and stir
while my thoughts
flex and take flight
the gentle crushing
melding of sugar
and hot juice of the
broken bean

You in moon split water
came by me,
sparkling.
We shone naked
cupped by warm
skin dripped
soundings of
one into other,

deep.

Wet slipped
gliding grasps
through our lips,
lapped love
from the heart pools
of our souls

until it,
all drunk up
in the moon waned
tear drops,

ultimately,
intimately,
died.

Charismatic Poet

She slipped to trip

her slipper fell--

it found its light
a wishing well
of painted days
that dreamed of night;

[Cinderella's midnight flight.]

Time sped so fast
her eyes lost sheen
her focus dazed

became unclean

in dreams forgotten
one by one
as childhood lines

became undone.

Each finger filtered
two by four
and every day
they added more

to find her path
and pin her to
the place where

Mother

tied her shoe.

Take a walk with me. Around this flat
uneven road. The bends of drooping pines and blushing chimneys
puffing smoke. And rain melts into daffodils. A woodpecker
on my windowsill. Two crows on the wire line.
And a street of cars winding around the cul-de-sac. The stop sign
overlooks the manhole. I-90 at a distance. There is sunset
falling on Mercer Island. It presses kisses on green.
Some bodies of blue and the Light Rail is rushing. A quiet breath
then clouds cast a shadow over Mt. Rainier...

I

you have no claim on wombs
just as rain cannot hold
onto clouds

things change
they drop
unlike
Autumn's failings

and i give birth
to a man's live ammunition
nurture the beast

II

the images i detest
i love again
this segregated DNA
i twisted from sperm to egg

unlike neruda

i share falsehood of love
to claim part of you
hold you at arms length
while
clasping tight your clutch

III

They haven't spotted me yet
out in the far ort cloud
but I am coming for a visit
unwelcome

Just another frozen chunk
of left overs
large and mixed with rocks
knocked out of my familiar path
by a reckless fellow traveler

Now sunward I accelerate
pulled by gravity and destiny
toward my own death
as the ethereal within warms
and leaves me

Any day now I'll be betrayed
by a smudge of growing tail
by amateur or astronomer
matters not
to me

or them

.
I shall not write of tragedy
in the Shakesperean sense
for I know not of such things

and so I read
and believe

nor shall I ply
the dramatic shenanigans
of the romantics
for reasons essentially the same

and so I read
and believe

I write
in pastoral settings
gentle stories
of love, family
home and hearth,

and I scribe these tales truely
for all those
who know not of such things

so they can read
and believe

The sky is October blue

that vibrant wild-ache kind of blue
that moves crumbled leaves beneath cold air

the kind where sun struggles to steam earth
and I feel my heart breathe like spring's birth
with the kind of breath that makes leaves shake;
makes the last glow of sun tremble before it sets

where the pavement's wet
and the streetlight flickers
with its fake orange light

and I wonder why I continue--

continue to fight