Living The Dream

Wake up now and then
take pulse wash dishes
and mouth so many words
wasted or not for what

You in fields of onions
your young brown curls
how they ran their fingers
through your life all dreams

I was not there then but now
the day drains down the loss
I mean the loess think of me
under Sterneschnupfen
under your length

More Turquoise

I read the book on what you're
supposed to say and when or not
to say it instead listen but that is not
at all in this picture

Only a strong evening breeze
bustling all throughout Eugene
light in certain places or is
the WOW Hall made of cream

A guy in his bathrobe
holds up a raven feather he found
on the sidewalk yet another
for his collection of hundreds

tells me they molt in different places
so they are still able to fly
says he winds string around these
reds yellows I like the turquoise
and your kiss with your tongue

I Think Of Him

Shut my eyes real hard
There he is
In disguise
All shiny


Then when I remember
A feeling comes over me
It is the exact same feeling

Across My Life

There were certain places people things
left behind it was never me I was the one
going away turning my back never facing
them again goodbye was my word ready
to jump out of my heart except when I
look and look here jump the gun
in terms of wanting to avoid any pain
now I seek his looks his touch
this is all I want this is my kiss

Still Nonpareil

Still there are no questions
to these answers
to the time
before this
time

Mark the now
whatever that is

all said and done
again
with

Mark My Words

Tried to erase them grind off
small tails of happiness
plus the stubble my only reminder
of night then almost daylight

How

Could

We

Go

rub what's left
from the jar
containing all the suns
their lucky stars

His Ears

I touched his ears
met his eyes

looked into
dancing

two strong arms
wrapped around

my strong lover

stay here in the dim
walk with me

in the sun
the burning rays

Into His Eyes

I looked into his eyes
saw the shadows underneath
but only later
after
the usual

pleasantries

rocks waves out
past the shore break

to me to me to me

if not for the sand
its dunes and grasses

Happy Accidents

I don't know of any. Mostly they are not that
but this and the other. How to divide into myself.
The other stage. Its bleed into the daylight.
How to escape the frame. All up and running.
Way ahead. The other. Of the other. Myself included.
How to with finesse. I would bite off his head
if I only could. Bite and be bitten.