#AmericanWriters
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
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
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
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…
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
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
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans