#AmericanWriters
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
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
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
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
We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
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 die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that