We were entwined in red rings
Of blood and loneliness before
The first snows fell
Before muddy rivers seeded clouds
Above a virgin forest, and
The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
Under a dead blue sky on a distant…
Give me your hand
Make room for me
to lead and follow
beyond this rage of poetry.
FOR DAVID P—B
The eye follows, the land
Slips upward, creases down, forms
The gentle buttocks of a young
Giant. In the nestle,
Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Memory of old tombs,
I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.
Some declare their lives are lived
The crystal rags
Of a worn-through soul
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip…
Where bones idle under years of fa…
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation
One innocent spring
your voice meant to me
less than tires turning
on a distant street.
Your name, perhaps spoken,
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
Beloveds, now we know that we know…
Without notice, our dear love can…
In the instant that Michael is go…
Though we are many, each of us is…
Only when we confess our confusion…
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of lonelines…
until love leaves its high holy te…
and comes into our sight
There is no warning rattle at the…
nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer…
Safe in the dark prison, I know t…
light slides over
the fingered work of a toothless