#AmericanWriters
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
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
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
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…
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
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…
The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud