I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.

We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…

Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans

Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a

Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation

Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleev… to peer into my eyes while I within deny their threats and answer them with lies. Mushlike memories perform

There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless

Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…

There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win

We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…

She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running

Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave

Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone