FOR DAVID P—B
The eye follows, the land
Slips upward, creases down, forms
The gentle buttocks of a young
Giant. In the nestle,

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since depart
Mark the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here

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?

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

I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.
Some declare their lives are lived

They went home and told their wive
that never once in all their lives
had they known a girl like me,
But... They went home.
They said my house was licking cle

Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing

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

When love is a shimmering curtain
Before a door of chance
That leads to a world in question
Wherein the macabrous dance
Of bones that rattle in silence