Two in a Crash

The sound of fading RPMs
is the sound of life driving
off the distance. Below it dips away,
I can see its sails tipping, and
all the flopping limbs from
tiny men go overboard.
The sky sort of shakes up, like
everything kaleidoscopic.
Purple suns have eyes of red, and gold skin.
Red and gold and purple like the
smear of rainbows. Maybe
it was a rainbow, and
not the sun. Maybe I tripped and
fell out of the car in all
that chaos. Maybe my
head is bleeding and I
need medical attention. If this is death,
how wonderful. And if it isn't...

The ends we'll share

we've been sharing a house on this island,
but we've been living apart for a while, and
the birds, they've been telling me what's the matter;
it's your wife, tell her to cool off, jump in the shower.

could it be that one of these
depressions is upon us?
could it be that one of these
threatened our perception?
could it be that one of these just might be the one to be
the beginning
the beginning of depression

we've been hearing a frown for the past few weeks
and we've talked all the dead ends right through our cheeks
we've asked all the right questions and why why not?
let's call it quits and shake our thoughts and hands.

could it be that one of these
depressions is upon us?
could it be that one of these
threatened our perception?
could it be that one of these just might be the one to be
the beginning
the beginning of depression

wait a second.
where do you think
you are going?
what do you think
you are doing?

wait a second, young man.
what do you think
you are doing?
and just where do you think
you are going alone?

Twirl

remember when your mother
cooked spaghetti for the family?

ill bet you have fond
memories of it...

slick your fork into the pasta
with its pointed mirror pricks, and
meet it to the rusty
veggies, russet
colored meats.
dig and twirl and
use a napkin.
never been so neat.
hesitate to take a drink,
marvel at the comedy, the chuckle of the ice
and how it washes out the kinks that
every noodle noodle noodle ties.

and if ever you can really finish-

let them fall your clanky silverware.
let them drain your throat the drooling pasta bits.
let them coat your brain the bits and fall into abyss.
allow yourself unbuckled belts and bellies barely bare.
afforded you, aren't you so happy, the pleasure to stay there
and pat your belly once or twice, to sleep against the chair!

Off a beaten night

Speak easy to me today. My brain is bricked with tired mortar from academic poundings and scholarly surroundings, loose and hard like a crashed-up lighthouse, but vulnerable too, like day-past-ripe bananas in a monkey fist. Why am I like this? Sometimes it's as easy to explain as a baby's gripe - he is hungry, go and feed him. Other times it's much more complicated, as when new knowledge weighs me down - like so much ice on aching branches, or startled salt water on the 2nd floor beach resort.
(Mother nature can be irresponsibly sad.)
What do I even know anymore? And where has feeling got me? I struggle either to accept the knowledge, or to wait for the temporary sense it makes to fade, the way cumbersome images from nightmares fade, or the melancholic way that marvelous, sleepy fantasies always fade into awake.

...my brain is wobbling; it's hard to listen. So speak easy to me.

Arizona and the Coyotes

Suzy left her porch light on for me
So's I wouldn't step on top of a cactus tree.
She saved me lots of time, and just, well, gee...
That's why I love her, that's why I love my suzy.

In Arizona we can build a castle from the sand
Just as we did long ago.
In Arizona we can howl with the c o y o t e s.
At midnight when the sun is dipped so low.

Suzy is the wisp of smoke lit up by the blue of the moon.
Suzy is the warmth, and I the month of June.

the cat of a whisker tickled my face and bubbled me out of a dream

Here she is in front, pawing at my morning breath. Her nose flickers once, she seconds no thought to the visible stench. Where was I just? Too groggy to tell. My tired eyes are blinking forth and back between an eager face-full of catty stomach screams and fading scenes from minute-old REM-cycle sleep. I'm rusty-eyed and crusted, primed to rest my sorry machine. I feel her shifting densely over the sheets. I sweep her sideways, and all her fur, as dust bins would and brooms would too the dust from dirty floors. Go lap from the toilet or contract disease! Do what you do whilst I'm neck deep in Zs. Impossible. She scratch my sheets, and noises of her struggle hammer on my ears. She again appears.

Back for more, are you? Oh what's the use. You're no worse than the first knife of daylight to my eyes. Get off my face already. Let's eat breakfast together.

Indiscriminate Optimism

Gather the troops of your mind.
We are on patrol tonight!

There is new territory to be forged, men.
They are calling on us again.
We cannot stay here.

I know it's early,
the sun's barely up.
These times of days can
really bring out the bitterness,
the senselessness,
the brutality of it all.

But don't let that deter you.
You have everything
you need.

Ahead are the measurements,
the tools and rulers!
Ahead are your stones and sticks,
Your bones and muscles,
Your wit and size
Your skin and eyes!
Everything you need.

You know just as I know,
the dark battled blanket of earth
that bears on us ahead.
Give it no breadth
Give it berth.

Blood and guts.
Mud and rusty guns.
Other people's armies.
Slivers and cracks of light.

Peer through the prism.
I am with you there.
Open your eyes.
Gather your weaponsm, mes freres,
And keep to indiscriminate optimism!

call without response

it's simple.
i love you.
even when my face
fades from memory,
and it will;
even while you speed through
your younger years;
even when my name
spills out the back
of your brain.
i love you.

and i wonder
today,
like all other days,
how are you doing?