blue stationary

nothing but blue
stationary
flows down the drain

no title

wont let go

a jump

so in.first of all, is it
a snake
or a stick
Next?
it seems to be a little
bit of both
buoyed on
by the hopes
of appearing less a
stick
and more a
snake

2008

I would want
to be, where fore
a tree,
one of this spot
tree fanned by
we breezes
waving
at
waves
crossing the bay

half of the crossing
crisscross

happy new year

january has many a cassowary 
february has a hairy bear
march has a poplar start
april has a windowsill
may has a way
june has a river moon
july has functions piecewise
august has just enough
september has time forever
october has eaten the leftovers
november has never ever
december has timbre

 

667

here lies the axes
that starred blue eyes
striding aside foreign bicycles
we ride weaving through traffic
lest the aches and bees sting
the parchment thin on asses
its all written there
from happenstance to practice
gondola parts sourced from black markets
a ride or a fall or a ride until a fall
or a right for a wrong
or it was alright til it was gone

enthalpy

what is it
that prevents
organic matter
from phase transitions
snow to rain to ice
a brain can do less

four corners (or nevada)

my country is a twister
volcanoes bubble and blister
hurricanes make land tear up
and the rivers cry over banks
never high enough to enter
basements and seconds of spare time
separated and swallowed up
into the earth fault lines
an unfederated disaster
zone we can only blabber and laughter
burning our homes we rome
you watch while we build your tomb
blankets and red cross spades
turning over loam into repurposed bomb
shelters from 196some

stagnant water hymns

fever is a funny thing
a little bit of  simple trim
hair cuts to genome strings
the malady of silver films
bar-less prisons become skin
prisms far away from water brims
the larvae all life was in
a similitude a frictionless pin
a better understanding of wasn't's win
life offers death a place to begin

ideas of march

to see
and to saw
the branches jigged
to totter for a while
pinioned together
harpsicord of a tree
squeeking and hawing
in the woods
at night
a fall waiting to spring
from summer for winter
winds just accumulate a thaw

vi

the river plusses
into puddles shallow
windows of the current
understanding of flow
discourse in gravity
a severe undertow towards
the center of the earth
what was hot
wants what is cold
and what is wet is what
is found to make dry dry

fractions

a millionth of a fox
is a hairs breathaway from a wet tail
the buoyancy of vision
over water what reflects
the sky this time
its all pines and leafless trees
decided they did to leave
alone the breeze

chores on the horizon

light snow was
piling up
as if the cloud
decided to be better on the ground
softer than sheep
even I could lie down
and sleep but the shovel
has frozen to my hand
and the rain will
sog and pull
the muscles off my bones

firds

a cardinal alights
in a budding magnolia
buds white what would otherwise
be brilliant but another dab
of perspectiveless glamour
in a drabbed and flaking
city scab the pointillist bird
in the tree red
magic the only one living
thing you can see

flurr

light snow
the curse on ice
just enough to limit the slide
but not picturesque