Discovery

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If I stand up on my toes and yawn, stretching my arms,
I can touch the ceiling.




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Curling

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Your pupils dilate without warning,
like some mad ocean giving away.
And I drown

In your black and swirling waters, sink deep
into your void, chasing the ever dimming light
of your half-open eyes. As you whirl

Your tresses around me, and cover me,
from the outside and the inside,
in lash hard sighs.

And your wild and curling ways, carry me
to the very bottom of things,
Without meaning to.

And then spit me out,
Without meaning to.
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Peacock Nights II

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How can I not bestow upon you
the choicest adjectives
the oldest of nouns –
The burn-burn, the sing-sing
And all that is sensed with mirror sounds.

How can I not leave upon you
the marks of my longing
my sleepless dawns -
The moon-moon, the sun-sun
And all that is sucked into your bottomless yawns.

How can I not rest upon you
this marble head, these deadened arms
this bag of bones, this fallow farm -
The hum-hum, the sting-sting
And all that crawls in its wicked warmth.
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Peacock Nights

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Take my hand, sweet love,
dull master, duller friend. And bind me
to the echoes of your silk love.
So that I, in a dull moment, never crave
the whirling whip of your soft flesh.
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Road Kill

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I take her hand
Put it to my throat
Murder me! I say
And she giggles.

Later,
we make love
Later,
we lie in bed
Later,
we wonder

About all we can kill,
merely by loving.
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On the Beach

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A sea, A moon, A rose. Boats,
blundering boats.

Tossing, hither, thither,
Riding waves,
Fluorescent green.

The roving eye of the light house.
A wind
, I don't know;
Sand
, that yields;
Impressions
, false;
Feet
, bare;
And the night
, endless.
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Premonitions

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Be brave love,
Be very brave love
For the wind now moves in circles
And the birds all twitter disaster.

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Punctuate

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Punctuate, she says. Punctuate.
Punctuate carefully, your motions, your thoughts,
punctuate all you've got.
And people.

Turn them into words,
and phrases, and clauses, and questions;
things you know.

Instead of
this endless stream that feeds into you,
like some giant apparition
trying to climb down your throat.

Punctuate, she says.
Punctuate a lot.
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To have begotten a horse

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To have begotten a horse
Out of the womb of the woman
you love

Is to have wished
To have an exceedingly fat man
make love to her

Not that I have anything against horses
Or fat men. I admire them both
for their tenacity.

But look my darling
There's only so much love
you can have.

And not all of it together
And not all of it kind.
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Mala Noche

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Do they dance in darkness
unseen by shadows

Do their voices ride
a silent wind

Do the cold streets
comfort their feet

Or do they have paws
instead ?

Will their wired jaws
scrunch at all hours

Will black and white
be the only colours tonight

Will all stop
and nothing spin

Until their eyes roll upwards
with a sharp metal clink

Mala Noche.
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It is raining
It is an empty it
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X - Y

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Some people have a hard time
plotting time

Yet others make a mess
of distances

I,
I am bad at both

My horizontals stretch out into the great beyond
And my verticals spire up into a black vacuum

And remember,
these are just the axes still
I'm trying to tether
peg at the point of Origin

The plotting
is yet to come

Now what shall I do
with this piece of paper you've slipped me

try draw graphs on it
or write poetry ?

They are both the same you see
both speak of certain impossibilities
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