Friday, June 17, 2016

Poems and Apocrypha

The haunted hotel

the first room they gave me I didn't like at all
there was a little girl weeping in the wall
the second room was nicely appointed
but there was a herd of antelope 
sleeping in the crawlspace above
as soon as I would start to fall asleep
something would startle them again
finally I settled in to a tiny chamber
that had been used for a maid's quarters  
she had been driven crazy with a hatchet
although nearly decapitated
she managed to bleed-out over a bidet
well aware that whatever happens to spill
someone always has to put the room in order
trees howled and the wind scratched away the windows
I awoke a one point inside a hollow tree
there was still obsidian darkness 
by dawn I was back in bed
covered in leaves
sonar from a mysterious kitchen
the existential aroma of coffee 


After a very long stay
the floating effigy drifted away

experimental flight risk
gliding on my non-existent disk

where the isle of the sea
meets the isle of the sky

waves and clouds 
together fly


over the radio into wires in my ears
samuel barber's adagio for strings
my friend who died this year
is in the sunlight
is in the water

He tried so hard
not to have God
God is all that is left
when one has gone to rest
it's all in your head

until you are dead

for Don Joyce


dulcet moon of May
wearing three scattered planets
seagulls fly at night



crow and seagull
black and white
outside my window
they fight and fight

Pleasure and happiness
may be achieved,
Pain and sorrow
are given

writing is the taxidermy of thought

Life is as close to hell as we can be
until we get there 

Death Valley
Devil's Hole
Furnace Creek
Badwater Basin
Fall Canyon
Stovepipe Wells
The Racetrack
The Devil's Cornfield
Zabriskie Point

Homemade guantanamo
fun's over darling
misfortune cookies

Your class status threatened
you shun me,
That's alright
I shun myself


Sunlight down seventh
outlines gulls highlights the trees
moving in the breeze


suspended in mid-heliotrope
machines leaking piano coins
fingerless ouds
run up the water spout

when galaxies collide
heavy print job
undertone drone runs out to sea
train sinking in the distant bay
cavalcades of sport cars 
crunch their numbers
gully-washers flood
the fracked-out cavities

hollow inside
hollow inside
we didn't believe we were
hollow inside
hollow inside


trains at the foot of my bed
mean business,

but a steam train leaves
  the head of the bed

climbing toward
the back country

November 2015-June 2016

1 comment:

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