The house, long burned down
leaving mid-air memories
of our midnight rut
☯
If you get this note
after the milkman walks on
please come back to bed
☯
I ducked under
in time to watch the taillights
on the submarine
☯
My ambitions
not quite as to dried curly turds
beneath the mailbox
☯
Wide concrete steps, cracked
where the jeeps drove down them
the last war
☯
I sat in this chair
and communed with the sunlight
(she is still dead)
☯
All we ever do
is keep moving down the line
until it’s over
☯
Leaving the light on–
Damn it, damn it all to hell!
It’s one fucking light!
☯
At twilight, a chime
first ice cream truck of summer
(I’m too thrilled to look!)
☯
We pulled the plug
on any notion of God
get out the flashlights
☯
Tears on my temples
a cold breeze brushes them back…
summer clouds scud west
☯
I’ve been chasing
myself in curlicues…
dizzying dead end
☯
The impermanence
(One man with a gun, then more)
of this garden wall!
☯
The blind man shuffles west
around the telephone pole
night horns fade
☯
My bedroom window
so much bigger than the moon…
thankfully no bars
☯
Freighter close to shore
horizontal skyscraper
sliding, too quiet
