What Made This Eternal

pinky-sun

It was a pedestal from the sun
that healed me.

Precipiced before the town of my youth.

This same pedestal supplanted the
cellular variables in my female
kitty cat
and while it gave me the energy of
my next birth
it also gave her cancer,
like a plant of metabolism,
a burning of time.

If the intuition of the scientists is me
then it is also the way that I have loved
and lost
the delicate and vulnerable souls
that
I have loved.

These afternoons between time
can never be repeated.
They are outside the script of
fragile acceptance

whose acknowledgement
has made me eternal.

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If Memory A River

Each day I go down to drown myself in a river.

Oh, the ethereal wind that stops me.

The contiguous sky, the contiguous sky

and the burned smell of sage brush and damp elm trees.

Not any of this be your body.

Not any of this bring back your life.

But to become your body again,

a consistency to be human.

I forget and return to the river again tomorrow

when the gray dawn breaks

and the lasting scents of winter drive me

from my pain

for a mirrored sense of ritual.

The river says,

“Go and be mortal. Have the heart of the

deer and rabbit. Collect today, learn what

cognizance is. Learn to love. Look and breathe

and sleep. Your memories will be like the moon

floating high in the daylight. Some moments will

be special and some will be out of place.

We will save the Earth. This Earth, it should be

saved.”

Perfection And The Alcoholic’s Diet Of Unborn Children

alcoholic's diet

This is the alcoholic’s diet of unborn children

Yes, that’s right

Their parents aren’t perfect but wanted
to be

Turning into walls
You didn’t say that sentence properly

That’s funny

Be better

Be quiet, you’re giving me a riot

There . . . ghosts!

Their ghosts?

They live everywhere, even in between the minutes
before watching television

Oh no,
I meant the alcoholic’s diet of unborn children

Not me, not my problem

I don’t have them

Oh just go kill yourself

You drinking again?

I don’t respect you

The Eastern Sky

the eastern sky there
looked pretty

as beautiful as your love
when i left you

lofty
dreaming dark blue clouds
of night

mortal like you
they asked to shape breathing

witness to a history
not be forgotten

not even by the newborn flowers
of Spring
or the new myocytes
of your heart

for the eastern sky there
looked pretty

and the stray dogs in the alleys
trailed shadows

sniffing at the dandelions
in May

i see in this darkness

you look for the light

Alone In The Distance

old country road

I’ve made pilgrimages
back over the roads
we first drove
when we moved to Texas

country roads
between
Fort Worth and Decatur

footnotes of the West

blackbirds up high on wires

brush fields
dust
and hills

yellow horizons and dust again

but driving back across
these roads
cannot erase our moments together

so I look these landscapes
in the eye
and feel them in my heart

every
little farmhouse
alone in the distance

The Way I Wear My Hair

Everyday without you
I wake up
and try to decide
what I should do with my hair,
how I should wear it.

Should I cut it?
Does it need a trim?
What if I cut it all off?

I would not be plagued with these
remembrances.

But only for a short time.

Then when it was time again
to cut it all off
I’d have to remember why I
was cutting it all off,

cause I don’t want to have to
think about what it’s like
to wake up everyday and
think about how I would or should
wear my hair before your eyes
that are no longer around
to look at the way I wear my hair.

The Loves Oceanic

These things that give suspension to atoms

These things of the being

They’re being and been in my heart for your love

They cause for your blue eyes

The cells of my dreams

Windows of the way the sunshine was with you

In Mexico
after you ate the hibiscus flower and wept

Down a damp street in Dallas

As the snow came flying down in New York City

To make a parade or make us all crazy

To make us cuddle and feel like enchiladas in our
innards

The sunshine was still there

When your buttressed lips kissed me and I felt

My mind tilt like the cascading cliffs of Ireland

Roaring

Falling

Tumbling

Into the crisp and unforgiving coldness of the Sea

 

And because of that coldness I am preserved forever

Where you reside within me

On this planet

In the depths of the ocean

Video

nunc incognitae

The days are unknown. Listen.
We will have become in fiction.

Place your veiny hands
on my shoulders

we will be in life
in a cold winter bedroom

late western sunlight
on the wall burning red.

We are the nomads
who left houses
and abandoned love.

Places with wooden tables
drank dark wine
between pursed-lip kisses.

Expect me in your painting
the smell of turpentine
and carving your soul
out of aquamarine.

Your particulates of breath
on
the canvas

my soul-filled offspring

or
what is left for you

in
what is called earth-based
inspiration.

The Soul-Filled Marriage

They were supposed
     to marry
touch apples
  in an orchard together
         look out
    upon
   a North Eastern sea
     the one
that brought so many
  power-hungry heathens
to
  this land

We were
   supposed
           to marry
touch apples
   in the Fall   together
      something
      hiding
  in our hearts
where
    we lived in different
  parts
of   the crusty Empire City
  at contrasting and
  overlapping points
                  in the future

We were supposed to
     eat
  chips and salsa together
laugh at
     small things
  look out
      on
  green pastures
     and    blue skies
   torn   apart
 by
the fingers of oak trees
       and      yea
  fall down    from
        our egos
 like the old ploughworker’s
   handiwork in the   field
  to
feed
  the souls and
           the soul-filled life
   we abandoned

When Leaving From The Heart

She goes to his soccer game
in the local men’s over-30 league
every Friday night,

even though they’re no longer married.

She always liked watching him play.

She leaves their kids at home
with their eldest son watching the younger two.

They’ve been divorced for eight years.

He has since remarried.

She’ll never love another man.

And on this late-winter night
with the full moon casting its light and floating
big across the vast, navy sky,

she slowly let’s go of his hand

as they say goodbye again

for one more week apart

that her heart will be still and hurt

and not let go of her love for him.