Wednesday, October 7, 2009


it's like squeezing an ice cube firmly
a trumpeting portly bell
slick black swan with a cast-iron hide
radiates orange blue firesicles that hold an edge

for a time her eyes remained at rest on the broken bottled daybreak
in a snowy corridor that never holds dust
bleary idea of what ace is in the hole
up a stretched willowed sleeve
eyes and teeth keep dust falling long after wind blows cold to sea
out the absolute absolved backdoor
backtrack to pacing in a cattle-car
cat-calls by least design
easy latticework timetable
background wishes white
for snowed in
stove up sliding saddle
stare over land at an island

for a time a daisy buried with a robin egg in the glove compartment developed frosty
departure to eastward domes
out the wrong direction
marina sky bleats watery wind
i tour the backtrack to somewhere in brooklyn or memory

for a time i wondered why i couldnt drive the train
authorial name in larger letters
posted back that way
they cant swim
she handed it to morse code morning
larks above and a look to goodbye
until they group trees by grace we'll be stuck with light years

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