The belief here: livesare ruled by energies, that an empty seatcan retain an essence of its occupantsmalevolent, benevolent. A found knifecasually taken; even a stray cat may tiptoe betweengods and the transient; messages. In the wind,words that bring life or finality,bring love or heartbreak. …
Poetry
I swim
I swim in your eyes; pools of mahogany and fluid ink I swim in your mellifluous voice, wrapped around me in syllables, tentative sentences, paused in question. a river, descending the high planes, continuing through jungles of vines and leaves larger than my face, Vines wrapped around …
Escarpment
Two disparate systems ribonucleic jiggledance, conjoined through lightflash distance medium; filtered through honeycombed pollen patterns. You are the sky, the mud, the air porous shining down between leafless winter branches, filled with ghosts of milkweed blooms; confusions of acorn caps …
Boat House
That there are spring days in Central Park, where the world rushes in, where underworld choruses summon, cinnamon dancers in the shadowed arches, fountain splashes simple, easy laughter the light touch of a seasoned busker’s hammer dulcimer. There are spring days in Central Park, that span …
Surmontrose
At each frozen corner, pauses [ice, snow impediment, protrusive and concave] considerations in passing [slippery, slick, slide, slush] …
Note to a mime
Pantomime thief, music box angel, mask of a face. Lips wore red. with too-small wings you dance the buds on the tips of trees, branches pirouette Through subways, with screeching iron and popping sparks finally caught up with her, cornered. in the pavement where the Blackened …
Tumblekisses
When I do finally lay my head down, close my eyes, I see you looking downward, quietly, lips suddenly forming a broad smile. I kiss you, and close my eyes again, and fall asleep. Kiss. Close eyes. Fall asleep. There are the light, new kisses, tentative in both the giving and the …
Lyre Lips
Whistling, splashing, humming I can hear from your Magyar lyre lips, Russet harmonics, melody, rhythms, tambourine jingle rattle swap. Gypsy waist engirdles words of desire murmuring awake slumbering crumbled clay. Pomegranate drips, ripened pears, baskets Woven from reeds encircled and …
The Space Between
It isn’t you, like Jeanne D’Arc on the pyre but this space between us that opens and closes, a foamed surf that brings and takes away …
Night class
Vastness can be a thing, palpable, touchable, an object that can be grasped in the hand, a fragile parchment, where if unrolled would reveal secrets. In cupped fingers as an injured wren, with a heart beating in persistence out of proportion to it’s dimension. Vastness can be an icy …