Mezzanine Past

They were thinking
of putting me back
on the Mezzanine
but I knew there were
unknown challenges
that grew
during my absence.
I could not bother
with all the details.
Knight Law had taken
more than it ever gave.
Would the Mezzanine
accept this even now
and excuse me
forgiving my digression?

The Tree And Its Lightning

What else is needed
a tree and its roots
suddenly illuminated
up in the sky mirror.

The anticipation crackling
branching in a thousand ways
none finding ground
everything frying so bright.

Isn't this an old story
the apartment too small
not large enough
to contain our ideas.

So what has folded up
in between the daytime
in the way of wings
this poem is sleeping.

Parked

Out in the back
three weeks
the old dog sitter
has been parked
by the barn
his parents dead
nowhere to go
maybe an older couple
would take him in
not here
not old enough

yet there will be
the second coming
any decade now
just wait for it
it will be so awesome
all the rejoicing
just you wait and see

Watershed

They begged for hotdogs
at the food meeting
and I reluctantly said yes
to the dogs their toppings
even put out ice cream
so many flavors
nobody ate it really.

I put aside
the home made cobblers
all the lasagne and salad
up at the watershed
trying too hard to please
just like I always do.

The weekends were silent
just me and Aries
Arapahoe Glacier
Aries jumping
into the open window
at midnight
giving me
a heart attack.

Little Corner

That little corner
little tiled corner
so hard to reach
even with the Bounty

There's always 65
and a white rag

So now you know
my problem
at midnight
or thereabouts

With No Say

Her shoes pinched
The dust waited
Corners grew
Into hallways
Door jambs
Urinals
Their tiles

It was the same feeling
Reaching down
To pick up the lint
Its contours not alluring
With nothing to say

Rabbit Island

Manana please come home
to shore and stop the delay
out there beyond the break
yes we see how you float
no effort just light and dark

picking up all the salt
washing my open neck
riding to the village
the night landing spot
jutting out meeting there

Well Flower

Well flower
Nice to see you
Up close in person
Your color seems to bleed
Right into the sun
After a day of complexities
Mourning the morning
Just that sound
All around the garden

Well  flower
Is there a limit
When you grow
clown fractures
seeming so serious
so well flower

Land Mass

There is that sinking feeling
even out with the sage
that what is here is floating
along beside the road grateful
and really did you tell them
everything they need to know
about the roll and overlooks

Can we say no other days
just like this one they stream
into one long river of days
combed out wavy hair
flowing down to the sea

Sift

That is the way to sift the dusty contents
all your questions about Bodie
and how to get there--
Calico? that fluffy piece of cake.

Their mirrors not my mirrors!
Please resist that type of thinking!
I am busy with my mask. The makings
of time. How the clock ticks.

This evidence invites no speculation
there you have it there it is
ask another leading question
before the jury returns empty-handed.

I've made my mark on the new wall
but someone erased it with a little 65
the King of the Custodians to blame
his loping gait his bunch of keys.

Spent

I spent my time in Bodie
a lot of cool friends
their strange personalities

took some getting used to
rocks the only beings
around for miles

Their sharp edges not
whittled down very easy
that part figured out

I had dreams about the road
but was too spooked
to give it another whirl

brushing off
this dusty mask
its familiar contours

Conifer Quiet

Flat swale memory s
upon the uneven lines
each shoulder then
valley burying many pasts
underneath turned up
woken up rivers swelling
calendar days and weeks
into conifers into oaks--

By day many crows ravens
by night the rats of heaven
just when looking was enough
here comes the poison
what will you do with it?
Will you send it away--

This message isn't enough
to keep things running that smoothly.
This message will beg to differ.

The Other Word

The other word was taken awhile ago
it was (shhh Matrix) so now
it is clear what we're dealing with
underneath the secret cave
along the forgotten shoreline
behind another immense grove
where I wait for you sleeping
mostly but also reading
sometimes remembering
to turn to the next page.

Moon 20 Degrees Helix

Say you thought you knew the town
when all along you were absurdist
without the benefits of such a label.
These things happen with the helix.

When I was younger
I thought I was old.
This is the fault of the helix.
Everything possible at once
none of it attainable. Degrees.

I mean I asked about it once or twice.
I was made to search the old rubble.
There were lots of ants. Biting.

Future Helix

Bright future helix
send me your message
sent and secure
as next and double next
inside that egg
opening in about five hundred years
a Flower that belongs finally
beneath the egg tree

So It Seems

The future (will be) sliding
in and out of thin shadows
rubble bigger than mountains
or near that anyway I am glad
you (will be) there too counting
on this words gliding along cubist
not only a dream in a dream

that is the sign you left
all those years ago
under the echoes and dust
of this thick building
because taming it
(would have been) cruel

beside the empty fountain
they are deciding
which one to read first

it is s tough decision
between distance
and trains and love

The Missing Town

There were empty windows
empty of curtains and people
behind the blinds and glass
what looked like gates or bars
shadows and dust hanging instead
the Earth a possibility nobody dare look
to others we seem so tiny and here
so huge that we are losing it

Town And Ten Cents

Thought about the town
but forgot to think
did not see
and missed the sights

all along the river
raccoons cormorants herons

I watched while it was still dark
how they mowed the median strip
down to a smooth stubble
I will never forget this

Who Is Calling? The Town.

The town is calling out to everyone
anyone around to hear its blossoms
remembering last year this time
and those others Curled up and gone
only roots now with a few bugs attached
and bees climbing around without ropes
the Butte crumbling on the right hand side
that's towards Springfield and upriver
smooth air at night a jet could land
I want to get out of this skin and belong
maybe my bag is too small
for what I think I need

Plain Sight

Yes, they hide
camouflaged like butterflies
against trees and flowers
until they disappear (from language)
scritch scratching in the mud
on the walls underneath (rubble dust)
down that drain flying away
to emerge into (the space) of reason
and science so what if there's
many versions of what (they spell)
we are seeing isn't that so
like this poem the real version
of it in a place buried at night

Family Feeling

The town is at its best now.
The town is in a hurry to get
to the luscious Mays
with lilacs everywhere.
See them at your table?
Guests who will not leave
until you're forgotten
exactly when they arrived
because now the family feeling.