kick-off

to day september first
first september day to
ride summer out
on the handle bars
kicking star
dust at a stop
the off
season is almost on
walk anywhere
pee anytime
quite a feeling
like a mink run a mile
rocky at the start
river in a while

season pass

dinner is slight
tugs on the line
onset of night
hardly bites
hungry aright
 

cryme~

timed finger prints
identity on stolen bricks
windows smashed
guzzles burned
no stone is left
no check returned

night riders

aluminum hands
hold onto steel wheels
rolling over dark stones
glitter star grass
down hills to oak fronds
the crickets barely pause
to think over our bombs

carrion

above the forty five
shelter trees
starting willow ending
pine breeze
the vultures five
wheel free
when from no
where sees seagull
please flap 
fast or slow
another and said seagull says I
know these wings
white more variable
buzzard more airable
bruegels painted red
facets of deaths tread
on a silence of beats
one long as sleep
interspersed a single teeth
the first eases
and peels
off to port in successiveness
the next and the necks look west
east of even a seven
th feather rises
doing circles
the fleet plots charts
follows the dips
the dual rivers fists
atmosphere's hollow hand
holds above man

love and behold a Duck

this duck is a nuisance
to the surface
displacement ambient
sentience wet
fans over greater
extant perfect necks
and ankles hello yellow
paddle through water
breath or snow
under
we
go

dusk to dawn

the bang back
from g-rock
to the dock
stop the waves with
metal ifs
all you miss
is the savage winds drips

past the fifth degree
off the lee
a ghost
my toast
jelly butter tooths
flits from white to gone
farther on two points again
a crazy flap
its the fast gifts
that wandering tern
with swallow tail
drinking cps
fll f strms
hern breaks the day
two by naked waists
again whit is this place

around round

stones into hands
hands into earth
hard spots
muscles taught 
fingers crossed
joints locked
pass contact
gunpowder knocked
hundred year granite clocks
tick tock rock by rock

my bank is in the sun
drinking riverside melatonic
lots of time to pry bar round
 apart between docks
pick and shovel dirt filled socks
arms brown
rebalance to the ghost bum
on the roll home the hull
hums and pitches foam

sandstone grains
granite tombs
mortar trace
lbs onz
heavy seven
hours throwing stuff of heavens
early gates
what makes
minks I relate to
homes for spiders eight
legs holding up noon heat

squall line

drops scatter the river 

diffident bits spit
sparkle and resist
surface tension amiss

flotsam visits

floats in winds seats

me seagul indifferent too
a confusion or sanity with feathers

osprey tern on wing
king fisher a juniper

aaabending wings up
the wind feels pins
           zillions
magnifying glasses
on my sunned limbs

again and a gin and tonic
what would i give

los

the squall line rips down
the river losing islands

one by one

calumet
chapman shoal pine
north colburn little round round
woronoco basswood tidd
twin
castle francis
suddenly goose is  it

denizens a

walking through the house
you may contract
a spider
to ride along
or a net
to tag along
or a rider
to side along
you may expect
walking through the house

how the zebra got his stripes

they say that cuts left open under
to let in the sun
yield permanent scars
then my arms
should be always crossed
ever present reminders of blood lost

cherries and ice cream and toast

in pittsburgh
when i lived
in pittsburgh
i lived off
cherries
the sour red sat right
with vanilla breyers ice cream
always i wished was mercers
in pittsburgh
i lived off
toast
the slices fat to hold
ice cream and cherries
eloquently pulled from the yard
in pittsburgh
the mafia gave me a tree
the tree gave us cherries
and the giant eagle
had ice cream on special
for two weeks
last month
i lived on this
when i lived
in pittsburgh

no one believes me
but its true and nothing but

cherries and ice cream and toast

night garden

though dumb
crickets strum
wings of some
speak for one

viva la

above by viva
wandering the yard with camera
smeared pointillist sky done up
 paint same as the midnight cowboy gown

glasses woven into hair
her face inclined
with the cloud depth
eyes one two superstars

off of oft

extensions of man
buffet of fly
well of salt
alight of feet
wake of sleep
anger of my
place of time
dock of iron
girders of mass
prayers of last
summer of hot
wind of clouds
absent of rain
thirst of death
queen of lace
bees of buzz
honey of those
but of butter
I of course
know of that