All I Can Suspect

 

They rise like mushrooms in the rain –

or polyps pre: a colonoscopy –
involuntarily: these species of incursion

in the brain. Their net effects may vex

or numb or entertain. I’d like to say I know
more than I do about them – find a moral

in their perilous unheralded appearances –

but their adherences defeat me.
All I can suspect is, they complete me.











.

Most Ghosts

 

Most ghosts don’t much get along
with other ghosts:

tethered, when together,
to their fraught irresolutions,

all their solo solipsisms
cannot breathe to misconstrue.

Banshees like to wail alone
to seethe and rue.

But last night they came through
my dreams en masse –

as redolent and rude
as passing gas.











.

More of You

 

Clay is stardust

mixed with water
which amounts
to stardust, too –
into and around
and out of which

constituents are

soon supplied
with what they
need to make up
more of you.
You look around

and blink at what

you think is utterly
unfathomably
other, but really
it’s your mother
and your brother.

Face it, darlings,

it is done: we’re
inextinguishably
one, if intramural:
singularly
plural.








.

Oddly Calm

 

for Mike Rubio

Someone wants to know!

Suddenly there’s flow!
Stop can turn to go!

Allowed to take a ride,

the crowds inside decide
they do not have to hide.

They come out

oddly calm
and preternaturally
gratified.








.

Not All Poems Rhyme

 

Am I doing enough?

Do I have
sufficient
ambition?

Oh, wait a minute.

The Universe
is infinite.
Never mind.












.

Body Contact

Bundled and encumbered
in a plundering
preponderantly bodily
conglomerate response –

shaped by space-time’s

pull and gravity –
like an embracing
brace of seals – without

much suavity – an awkward

and unwieldy pile –
though not without its wily
mild to wild charm:

today you wouldn’t mind

becoming involutedly
enwrapped in everybody
else’s leg and elbow,

butt and chest and lap

and crotch and fingers,
neck and head and foot
and lip and arm.







.

If There is Enlightenment

 

If there is

enlightenment,

we think it

criminally blasts

from blue

to yellow

by barging

indiscriminately

through

some sad,

beleaguered

fellow.











.