Let Her Use It

A liar's metal instrument is to tally,
A friend, a party animal, sleepy, gives night thought.
Life flies after us.
    Women live, feel the surf, half-play.
They never tell their opinions.

Suffer this music.
A man says his picture rocks water unity,
    affects head competition.
He's my solution.
My madness is yet performed fast and dry.
Demand, try the original move she knows has been.

Come perfect dirty rose,
Spirit and harmony, always.
Fantasy is negative understanding,
    Speak out body!
Observe in him how real pressure,
   before fills our banal passion,
      emotion colors a killer relative.

On Friday we can never hear
   the doctor has a studio, aware like a blind man,
      Grace can go on.

Masterpieces include some praise.
Learn with your subject,
   let her use and handle the brush.


December 15, 2006, with Evgenia Radilova, 44, 45, 46

The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63

64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Eclipse at Dawn

I was out with you under the moon,
I saw a shadow take her down.
Before she could stir again,
A young sun was born.

Last Train

The moon breaks on a cragged hill,
and sets behind, a vapid shell.
Glimmering stars shine silent will,
Stammer at the last train bell.

The hills and sky are mute and dumb,

Rails drained grey by the golden sun,

Threads I'll follow, a place to go,

Sparks of coal from the boiler glow.

A leopard asleep rests with them,
To whistles of flying geese.
They flock across, a blackened sky,
Bringing sleep, bringing peace.

Soon the birds at dawn,
Will snap these dreamers awake.
What happened to the passing night?
And journeys that they take?

Cat's Sense

I navigate with my cat's sense of the walls.
I know the doors that are open, the doors that are closed.
All the handles, how they turn.
The floorboards that sing to me as I pass.

What is to explain this?
And all the many senses we have within us?

I'm losing days
to silly problems that could have been foreseen.
I could have steered away.
But now I must bear the consequences.
I wish I had used my cat's sense in time.

Dying Inside

What does a fish think when swallowed by another?

Suddenly dark, does it think: 'I breathe inside you'?
A fish swimming in an ocean, will die in that ocean,

Does it wonder who it dies inside?

Certainly the parting of the oceans . . . is just part of that fish's notion . . .

We are conscious, and our being is surrounded by the being of another . .
Mustn't we pass through a being once we die?

 . . . or else go on living inside it?

Speaking topologically, of course . . .
 . . . assuming consciousness exists beyond three dimensions.

Perhaps being has no perimeter.

Existence must have dimension:

So . . .

If a fish is swallowed . . . in three dimensions, by another fish,
Then its body must pass through the body of the fish that eats it . .
The life . . it’s soul . . . . . is part of something dimensionless . . .

or is it?

From where it swims, it views our heart, like . . .

adding milk to tea,
taking sand home from the beach.
rescuing bugs.

I am swimming . . . it is light
There is a flicker of something bright
I am swimming, it is wet
But cannot move my self just yet . . .

What does a mosquito see?
the moment a swallow flattens it,
against the roof of its swailed beak,

a brief impulse
to the swallow's brain
as it dies . . . inside . . .

I could get around some Chinese food right about now . .
I'll take it in . .
I sometimes eat venison . .
Oh, dear me . . .

I wonder who I am,
as I die inside you.

Elkhart

What a name, elk-heart,
where prairie flats and cold basins of Lake Michigan meet
breath upon breath.

Some time ago an axle broke,
and gave up
along a hollowed rut of wagons trekking west.

What is America
but a clod of mud?

Wheels break, people stay on,
to talk of mud.

Wheels break people stay on
to tattle on, to stay on
a piece of earth,
muddy.

To this day they are there,
fixing other people’s wheels.