The Return

Fear the return of acrobats
smashed with books,
flushed from windows,
who witness the turn of the heel


The Conductor

golden-white absence of mind stares down
into bathing towns of running crimson
silver women bow their necks and cum
flexing every popping vessel
to sell moments like these to
an eager audience and people
who see a stranger scribbling secrets
speaking to themselves others have jumped
across the border with new plans for
a nation under siege marching to
new beats all discovered through the drum
for sunny days in carved October
abandoned lots outdated license plates
and self-absorbed eyes under glasses
and amber drinks near bushes walking
with the gypsies into the sea
of Jonah’s swollen belly by
winged heels of Hermes

A Field Guide to the Darkroom (3/3)

Grisly poplar whistles through Sunday.
Gays dressed for winter gossip about
Cigarettes, various habits of
Addicts. Puma women smile at
You. With no face, no shame. Facing
The wall, she came in. Stuck in dark,
Closing in. You felt like a hug
And gentle rumbling. I remember
Leaning my face against you and
Walking in the wind. I heard the
Muffled quietude of boomsticks
And canyons; where the hungry crowds
Sat appeased by paper and
Scheduled bells, formal attitudes
Of progress, fear of suited dame,
And power of anvil and sword.

Back to the wall, she came in. Mouth
Full of peppers, hesitating.
Or, pretending you were ever there
Speaking something just above hair.
To pretend to have mended one
Who found beauty in being broken
And built monuments to the theme
Of isolation. Holding hands
With the boatman underneath the
Clean lamp. With multitudes hidden
Like monsters in the hulls of thoughts
That shake us. Whether these voices
Carry us to another land
Or, upon the rocks for a death
At sea (plunged Odysseus
Deafens the monarchy). Cortez
Covered with disease. Columbus
Ripped to pieces by hounds armored
Metal. On the prow of gliding
Mansions lay the worshippers of
Gold. The Pirate Sea is mastered
By a grandmother in silks.

A Field Guide to the Darkroom (2/3)

The Pirate Sea is mastered
By a calm command.
Despite the swords and mirrors,
Trolls and phantasms, of the mind.
Masked men who play witness
Harmless from separate boughs
Where the final leap of bathers
Are games they play in the setting sun
Turning to raisins
These sweet little grapes
Left by The Creator plucked
For contents of purgatory
Or a bottle of Calcu.

The Pirate Sea is mastered
By men and women
Who tattoo corners
Of their faces and play the
Jealous games at round tables
Under smoke.
Endless translations of faces
Bodies of men transformed
By the cave-dwelling act of
Seclusion into erudite
And euphoric bats.
To play gambits of faces
Undisturbed. To observe
Each mask within the shade and
Shaded grass. And exclaim, “Limbs
Have been stolen!”
By tricks of senses
Unforeseen. Climbing
Through windows of cars
In the dreams of famous men
Wishing runaway
From a petting zoo.
These emotions have been pawned
Before. Stuck to panes of glass
Individual like highway
Flies. Moments, vision, leave us.

And with breath come back again.
Main agent – respiration.
From plants to me, we
Breathe the Pirate Sea.
Far from the bough, plucked
From the tree. Where the vine still
Quivers, and The Snake questions
Naked women lulling there.
Between the roots and running
Water beneath me.

A Field Guide to the Darkroom (1/3)

He walks in shadow limbless
A stupid bellow.
Down roads built through wilderness;
Collecting gloves,
Safeguarding The Seeds.
Twisting, unbending, shadow.
Groups collected in buckets
Long forgotten original bough.

In an empty room white
Walls empty. Sitting on the floor
A record player, two
Boxes of records.

After a Cuban breakfast
To an old friend’s home
Where you see life abandoned.
The only possession; music.
White walls empty, hardly feels
Like a home. Yet, here he’s been
Living. Released
From contact, hidden
Like amber stolen treasure,
A young man absorbed in
The Hive.

Plaintiff bough leaves not a whisper
Each branch dispels a secret sister
For the wicked seeds to prosper
Behind dark glasses like Ray and Stevie.