Oregon, walking – 3:II


Straining the taught ropes, who seek no violence,
In the bedded straw.
A mended tower.
Indians girdled in the saddle,
Lifters of bent white fog and the bells
Above the door.
Attracted hands of groping bathers,
Horses wrapped in thunder and
Bending flowers near the water,
Leaning lamps turned silent.
Mute, still, raised axes,
Gray haired women of beauty
And green cashmere.
Birds in memorandum below the eves,
Cranes and Egyptian pulleys.
Little lions held upon the shoulder.
Kept high away from the street.
A dusty wagon and the rotating wheel.
In anticipation of raised axes.


Oregon, walking – 3:I

After dark the steady bow
Submission to strange friends.
New world Aztec jewelry discovered,
Buried, dug up with scoops of a ten finger paw,
And rediscovered again
Sunk in –
Cushions, Arms, Feathers, Women.
Shadows of footsteps behind the door shifting,
A vacant viewer, beside mirrors
With bolted lips their keyboard eyelashes
Percussive teeth. The
Acrobats, twined in synthetic flowers, crouched
In intricate cages of daily, meek, predatory
Glorious and still. –
The excitement of books and creaking floorboards
Of lost schoolboy
A captain is a name rapt with oak,
Shells, and salt. The endless white
Of the Final Wave.
My only memory of Genesis;
Is fire and bent feathers for wings
Too twisted,
The caked mane of a horse shoeing the mud
Underneath red apples,
A girl with a tattooed face beside the highway with
The Hounds.

Oregon, walking – 2

And the frogs under crying lampshades.
Running paint of stiff armies the
Faint cupping song of
Sparrow leaf on crippled limb
Quiet moments of quiet between
Bodies in the windows
Military parades, boy scouts in
Army trucks
Spotted stare of owls as disguise
And young warriors in red cheeked
Flagged streets

Wise women covered with blankets
Smokers in tumbled alleys.
The worn and
weary metal synthesis
of the cabin windows.
The frozen world of mannequins.

Oregon, walking – 1

Dove resting on the wire.
Baby deer resting, with
his nosed nuzzled like he’s
Sleeping, in the middle of the road.
Hawk landing on earth for a kill in open field.
Mist and heavy clouds rolling east over mountains.
Dogs howling on the couches crying for lost friends.
Ellington playing Strayhorn.
Plants bathed in air.
Propaganda falling from the planes in Seoul.
Winter birds nestled in the feeders.
The body as self-definition of time,
Pattern perception.
The decoding of the sense perception personal,