what shall I say to thee
infinite reaches of space,
unfolding as a game board of unlimited leaves
surveying the rules of elder gods
as drops fall silently strained through the fabric of my robes.
clear eyes can distill liquor from the pungent fern
as brave minstrels sing under reddening skies of smoke.
as beautiful as the apocalypse is,
foundations quake with a hummingbird’s nerves;
the hum of snapped electrical cables
the glazing of the glorious mirror-windows
wind rustles gently through
an anticipating forest
and the animals wish we leave now.
Archive for September 23, 1990
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9/23/90
the stems of adolescent flowers
are trimmed with careful hand.
careful pruning and weed killer
teaches them how to stand.
no thought is needed on their part
to think until they’re grown,
when they find they each can go
and wilt all on their own.
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