I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry

Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water

Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleev… to peer into my eyes while I within deny their threats and answer them with lies. Mushlike memories perform

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

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

I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

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

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

Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans

Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a

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

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

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

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