Day May

your indiscriminate ass on the dance floor

sent me home with sweat
and melted coconut oil
in my hair

longing for more

under owl feather
with one more madness
tucked in its dirty brim

making the highway a song

(maybe a hymn)

slim chances have become
the daily run of things
like wings on fire
might just make the sun

or

was it how long i'd kept my kisses
that made the body hum?

either way-
the word of the day:

metempsychosis

which in its simplest observation,
meant traveling
from the body of my choosing
into the animal of my dreams

Lost Covers or Don't Be Gone So Long

be my tape recorder
and we could be the new order
ageless, fate shakers

making under chords of tongue
fires for the winter-
each a splinter of the sun

i will be your mirror
one of many maybe
only one to call you, baby
mean it like i dreamed it.

prayers of every lady,
arrows from all the men-
bend like water
soaks the branch

each other
lover fruit
daily shook
to pluck
and pick
while lips
suck at
the root.

be my record player
we should bare the sound
weightless
round as vowels
in very persuasive songs.

would it please you if it was easy?
sometimes i like the rough
so touches polish
rub it down like discovery

drawn from the periphery.

want your heels high to heal me
kicked in
kicked off
kicked out
dancing on the point
razor balanced
with uncalculated kisses.

static turns electric,
calm is far from empty.

i wouldn't hide your hand,
just stand revealing
every part and parcel-

delivered gift
like river lift
or what lives
in sculpted marble
risks the curves
to bring the cusps-
knowing even
hidden knives
were made
glowing once
in a slow burn
learned to trust.

Shown and Told

Find the medicine
Of Living;
Good things come
To those who wait.

I touched your heart
With giving;
It was the most
Beautiful escape.

Now we'll run to
Send our singing
And bend
Much more than break.

Wolf Moon

A lone wolf
Prowling night
In lunar uniform.

Shown new paths
By tracks of
Howling light reborn.

To My Most Secret Audience

I am held together
By paper-
A thousand shredded drafts
Bound spiral for a page.
Every day,
Ink smuggled
Into song,
Smudging
The smoke of words.
Whispers
From the lips
Of languages.
I slip about,
Under brushes-
Skin shuffled
Like a snake.

My eyes are a voice
Down corridors
Of mirrors.
Someone appears there,
Speaking back-
Sometimes it is you.
Sometimes it is myself.
Like the two owls last night
With great white wings
Opened wide,
Chasing each other
About the dark
With a calling
Made of bells.

From A Once Room To Telling Forward

Who is it
In precise delight
That knows
Both
The shadows
And
The lanterns
Of
Your eyes?

Tonight
Reminded
Some sand
Is
Combustible-
A fire could
Grow wild
Just
About
Anywhere-
I recall its flickers
Work through
Creatures
Even
In the sea.

Such secret prayer
Revealed
Accordingly.
If you are prepared.
And always
Intimately.

Some
Ghosts
Go
Spelling,
Some
Learn
Calligraphy.

I am apt to burn and
Want it willingly.

Approaching Winter Fruits

Upon the gold thread
Of your entrances
Amidst the whispers
Of trees on fire
In the small
Dark tunnel
To your heart-
There are plants
Of resurrection and
Directions determined
To destroy
Their vocabularies
Of disaster
With spark
And steam,
With dreams that
Beat much faster-
In bodies
Filled to spill,
Such seeds
Of him
To match her,
Twisting
Down
Deep
In roots
That build
For rapture.