Friday, August 28, 2015

You and Albert


You do not know the species
of the animal you love:
you call him Albert.

Both of you enjoy the sounds
of cooing doves
and singing birds.

You and Albert have
an understanding
which does not require words.









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Thursday, August 27, 2015

If Death were Pink and Life were Gray




If death were pink
and life were gray,
would we mistake
one for the other?

Which one’s
the other’s
mother?







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Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Walking with a Friend Through Heavy August Air




Walking with a friend
through heavy August air,
measuring it by its pressure
on bare sunlit skin,

wetness sometimes
leavening a bit – sweat
which lets a breeze permit
it to evaporate – leave a breath.

Walking with a friend
as if to lend each other something
of the secret of a moment shared,
parsing out the bared

and blessed, a mystery
of timelessness, nothing
you’d know how to say,
something that won’t go away.






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Tuesday, August 25, 2015

No Longer Art


One day the form she formed,
upon its own abrupt volition,
warmed and moved –

began to breathe;
what proved in it to be
what we’d call life

began to seethe;
exhibiting familiar tensions,
it evinced a sentience –

and became a friend.
That such a thing could
move toward such an end!

There was one realm of which
she knew, however, it could not
be part. No longer was it art.







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Monday, August 24, 2015

Considering Alternatives


Here we are pursuing it again –
considering alternatives which then
may open up new avenues through which
we might discover some new way to switch
to being something other than we are:
an iPad, say; or Hedy Lamarr.












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Sunday, August 23, 2015

Such Strange Happiness as Mine


Myriads of friendlinesses –
each inimitably fine –

came up in their friendly messes –
sat with me today to dine

on beleaguered watercresses
steamed in Abercrombie wine –

modeled all their gingham dresses,
crooning ditties to align

with whatever goddess blesses
such strange happiness as mine. 









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Saturday, August 22, 2015

But Not to Worry


Perception is selection:
gaining, losing mind.
But not to worry.
You’re choosing fine.









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