The Fragile Part

They said to show the fragile part.

You hadn’t learned the art.

As soon as tried, the plan was botched.

Weakness isn’t fond of being watched.














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What You’re Leaning On

New meanings

may begin

to dawn

when you begin

to wonder

what,

if anything,

you’re

leaning on.








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Your Curvilinearities

Today your curvilinearities

achieved a volume

they had never known before.

And they want more.













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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.

.

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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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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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.

.

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.

.

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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But Not to Worry

Perception is selection:

gaining, losing mind.

But not to worry.

You’re choosing fine.

.

Families, Occasionally

The sharing and the rearing

and the baring and the steering

of the odd phenomenon

we know as family!

Often only nominally close,

yet always ripe with doses

of the essence of each member

of the thing, families, occasionally,

make me want to sing.

.

The Big Burly King and the Little Blue Thing

We cannot find a meaning that will serve.

And so we’ll merely say what we observe.

The big burly king

and the little blue thing,

escaping the violet light,

proceed through the tangerine night.












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No Other Possible Conclusion

The ugly grunts –

the rude affronts!

Shunned undeservedly

by something which quite

simply doesn’t want you

in its picture – when everything

you thought was ceiling, floor

and fixture comes to zero.

There is no hero. There is no fit.

There is no other possible

conclusion: you are it.









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Wood

He thinks

that everyone

and everything

is made

of wood.

Of course,

he would.











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The Perfect Confidant

Who is the perfect confidant?

Someone who knows when to propose

a soft détente – who undergoes

with you those journeys of the heart

for which you think you yearn

without exactly taking part? Somebody

who has such a preternaturally fine

assignment of wise sensibilities that he

or she can tease you into seeing

more than you’d been able

quite to see before?

Perhaps.

But when the day grows late,

I think I’d rather have a playmate.







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