Monday, November 30, 2015

Extenuating Circumstance

He reaches out for you
like an extenuating circumstance.
He sees what’s in you
and would like to ask it for a dance.


Sunday, November 29, 2015

The Luxury of Space

Ah, the luxury of space – to find your place
in all the grandeur of the air –
to move about as if it didn’t matter where

you went, what energies you spent
to get from here to there!
It’s like you took God’s dare to spread

your soul so thin and wide into Infinity
it couldn’t possibly stay whole –
and it stays whole.


Saturday, November 28, 2015

Your Yellow Pet

Looking deep into your yellow pet’s dark eyes
brought this surprise: a sense of reckoning:

a beckoning from him to you to “shit,”
as that rude maxim has it, “or get off the pot.”

You mostly cleave to the ambiguous
and indirect. Your yellow pet does not.


Friday, November 27, 2015

Coelenterate Ex Machina

This woebegone, abandoned
and misshapen man needs care.
That’s why this generously
yielding pink coelenterate is there.

It descended jellyfish-ily from
some strange heaven far above.
At its first soft touch of him,
they fell, deep, into love.


Thursday, November 26, 2015

We Have No Words But These

What is there to say today? –
we have no words but these –
we see the fleas,

but where’s the dog? –
something’s clogged –
we’re feeling something

prescient, pressing –
something wants  to be in us –
something that can see in us

what something else in us
is hungry for.
We bungle toward

Perception’s door,
but can’t get through.
Oh what is there to say today?

We wish we knew.
We wish we had
a single point of view.


Wednesday, November 25, 2015

A God

A god is not the word made flesh
so much as passionate appeal
made breathing blooded icon.

A god is ripe: incensed
with sweet supernal
sex and sweat.

A god’s a bet that it can rip
through skies until it flies so far
and free the pious lose all sight of it.

A god’s a star
without the heat:
a god’s the light of it.


Tuesday, November 24, 2015


Peopling is what he does –
sorting out the buzz

innumerable faces who

for moments lend it sense.
A sort of recompense.


Monday, November 23, 2015

Plural Pronoun

I like to travel with you – there is a sweetness
in our camaraderie which lends a lightness
to the tightness of experience I often underwent
when we were separate. To season life –

to pepper it – with your and my inimitable
takes on what we see: I like the difference
this makes between the “you” you seem to be
and my own panoply. I wish that I were strong

enough to hold you on my back, the way you’re
always holding me: I hope someday to make up
for that lack. But now, with what great tenderness
I find I’m savoring the plural pronoun we!


Sunday, November 22, 2015

Ectoplasmic Essences

Spirits gently, thoughtfully accost each other in your dreams –
sometimes you overhear their internecine schemes – discover
that they trade in infinite availability: on tap for anyone
including you who wants them – only you have really got
to want them. Settle deep into your couch, lie back and take
a nap: know their ectoplasmic essences await you in your lap.


Saturday, November 21, 2015

A Trident Like Poseidon’s

You seek another mind for clues, and find it:
you’re sure those other eyes peruse an inward sea
which hides the news you need to breed
dimensionally through to views which might

effuse you into light:  provide that aid to greater
sight. The night grows late, and later, but you’ll wait
for something like a symbol in the ocean of his
consciousness to rise: a trident like Poseidon’s.

Then somehow, suddenly, you know:
there’s no such thing as guidance.
Knowing isn’t thought.
Guidance can’t be sought.


Friday, November 20, 2015

A Sweetly Private Fuss

When we’re aware
we’re being looked at,
we often tend to pose:
make a sweetly private fuss,

straighten spines and toes
and smile like Mona Lisas –
summon up the faintest blush:
acknowledging the Other –

that someone else is noticing,
someone else than us:
cutting thus through
solipsism: existential plus!


Thursday, November 19, 2015

In the Azure Blue with You

Standing in the azure blue with you,
unable to construe a difference
between the ideas “yours” or “mine,”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so fine.


Wednesday, November 18, 2015

As If It Didn’t Matter

Today let’s run through life
as if it didn’t matter where
we ended up.

Let’s squeeze our chatter
into one big laugh
and send it up.


Tuesday, November 17, 2015

At Least Sometimes

Sometimes in search of safety
we may seek to cling because we’re sure
there is no other thing to do.
At least sometimes we think that’s true.


Monday, November 16, 2015

He Thought He’d Sculpt in Light

He thought he’d sculpt in light and did,
and realized he was light himself
with such great force it cast a spell.
We’ve only seen them since at night,
in dreams: faint glimmers in a well.


Sunday, November 15, 2015


Your mind is like the quarry
of a guardian who’s larger,
stronger, wiser – proud
possessor of capacities you lack:

some presence in and with you
who will always have your back.
But vulnerably naked, you
don’t see he’s naked, too.


Saturday, November 14, 2015

What Soul Loves

Some friends are full of flash –
some, more dispassionate.
Soul loves the mad and rash –
and to refashion it

into sweet calm
before transmuting it,
with aplomb,
into a bomb.


Friday, November 13, 2015

Let It Spill

Today you say you’ll welcome anything.
And so you will.
No matter how precipitately it may spew
all over you – you’ll let it spill.


Thursday, November 12, 2015

In the Tumbling Aggregate

This afternoon most of you wasn’t aware what
the rest of you went about sending, appending,
suspending, rear-ending or rending to shreds.

It was only when each of you went to your beds
that collectively you had some sense of it all:
in the tumbling aggregate, you’re like a waterfall.


Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Where You Always Have Wanted to Stray

His wealth is his stealth –
he’s earned it in shadow,

he comes when he’s sure
he can lure you away.

You resist – he persists –
you succumb when you’ve

gathered he knows where you
always have wanted to stray:

more miraculously,
knows the way.


Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Lemon-Jello Translucent

In a veil of a whim –
a velleity – another idea
becomes warm –

lemon-jello translucent
and light as a mist,
its yellowness sits

in your arms and insists
on assuming more
palpable form.


Monday, November 9, 2015

In Confidence

In confidence – a secret
consultation – permitting you to peek at
something troubling – a pulse, an ardor
in his heart as if now bubbling to steam –

within which something’s caught –
a scheme to nudge his dream to thought.
He wants to take a walk. You’ll go.
You like to hear him talk.


Sunday, November 8, 2015

Some Presences

Some presences are simply too
spectacular to bear.
You stare at them and suddenly
you wish had a chair.


Saturday, November 7, 2015

Where I Think I Oughtn’t Be

Sometimes I get taken
where I think I oughtn’t be.
But then I look around to see
it all belongs to me!