WAITING FOR APOPHIS:
or DECONSTRUCTING ABSURDITY

_______________________________________________________


ASSESSING THE COST

enough already
with the philosophy
show me what works
how to remember it
make it last
not who almost died
wrecked on a mountain pass
upside down the embankment
not who is more damaged
not the myocardial infarction
or brain aneurysm on the office floor
not some microbial rot
no deoxyribonucleic roulette
no crap shoot
make our bodies real, baby

oh, just give me the dice
i'll load them my way


_______________________________________________________


ASSAYING RISK

the bottom line is
hope in human
relation ship
wrecked
fools gold
too much digging
speculation
excessive weighing
tipped scales
everything depends
if only he'd
tomorrow i'll

you don't understand
there's no parlay
nothing
pans out


_______________________________________________________


POP QUANTUM COSMOLOGY

come one, come all
to the quarky ball
where dancing skeletons
pick up stones
and clone the bones
on this floating cemetery.
stand up and let those
neutrinos shoot right through you.
scottie to bones:
she's rippin' apart, man
she won't hold
and jezebel says:
dere's music in
deez bones yet
let the frosting melt
in mac arthur park
'cause the recipe's not lost
in the water in the air
in the dust in the dark.
carry me back to ol' virginy
out through the orifice i skinny.
does dna dream
in a dead cat box?
i'll never not be
nothing ever.
phone home
i'm already there
dead again?


_______________________________________________________


WORDING IT

always
breathing it
thinking them
when i lie down
hypnogogic ideas
when i wake up
hypnopompic phrases
why didn't i bring
pen & paper to bed
afraid i'll forget
freely flowing perfect words
at work
on off the clock or
in the kitchen
waiting for water to boil
stir in the pasta
my daughter says
"mom, you're not listening
you have a blank look"
words circling around
behind my eyes
always
notebook in my pocket
on the park bench
at night
in my lover's ear
"oooh that is nice
i love the sound of your voice
put me to sleep, baby
keep talking"


_______________________________________________________


PUNCT

3am chardonnay ampersand camisole w/o tap panty
7am coffee streaming ellipsis postmodern keyboard
check weather myspace for updating emoticon decisions
anticipate *s and !!!
from my buddies listed by time zone
retrieve deleted e-mail
expletive expletive
revisit non-updated blogs
unbookmark journalzines
insert html link (digital autumn leaves falling)
'we're disconnecting again'
what the hell did he mean by that ? mark
click send button
retry retry
reconsider plain text


_______________________________________________________


TO B
for Jack Kerouac

be-bop babe
benzedrine
barbiturates
booze
banefully bi-sexual
biographical bathos
bi-polar buddhist
balding
belligerent
ball-less
brutally beautiful
banal
botched?


_______________________________________________________


SOWN OUT OF SEASON

basking in the autumn sun
on a bench in the park
i'm staring at the rocks
in the bank of the pond
a little clump of corn sprouts
green and dying

only ten inches high
grown from spring seed
scattered so late in summer
this corn had no reason
to grow here and now
for me to wonder about it

the pond is spring fed
enlarged by the park's founders
its edge recently fortified
with truckloads of large white stones
from out-of-state like me
who twice chose this village as home

a solitary duck
swims in the pond
because a woman who loves animals
placed him in his new home
a man from somewhere else
often stops to leave parched corn

it feeds the duck and other birds
and the fat greedy squirrels
who don't need to be fed
afterall they were born here
with plenty of hickory and oak trees
though some were probably planted here too

no squirrels or ducks ate this
particular corn seed
on the rocky bank
and i don't know if anyone else has noticed
my little clump of corn sprouts
in front of my park bench

the duck often flies to visit
neighboring ponds and returns
we wander in our free exile
home is a place and a choice
but people are never
sown out of time


_______________________________________________________


FOR STRANGERS

tell me something about yourself let your heart & your mind flow out through your mouth tangled & twisted or sweet smooth & straight let the words flood your being open your gate tell me the dreams before you grew hopeless the truth not the lies about love & its promise bring the pain & longing back into view tell me your dreams and i’ll dream with you


_______________________________________________________


ALTERITY

the veil is transparent
that separates us from them
some dna here
a membrane there
the nothing of me
the something of skin
you

d ~ ~ a ~ ~ n ~ ~ c ~ ~ e

WithAcrossOverUnderInsideOutside

me


_______________________________________________________


BOaRDERS

transgress (mary jo malo)

you in your universe
me in mine
at the border
that can never be crossed
we speak we write
for peace or war
if we want to know
we stay
go deep
yet never violate the onlyness
skin & words . . .
we can’t or won’t
cover one another
out in the cold
we cut and slash
with swords of both kinds
then turn the blade upon ourselves
in from the cold
but comfortably numb
loitering at warm boundaries
looking back at the outpost campfires
drifting
closer to the edge . . .
event horizon

undress (steve dalachinsky)

you in your verse
me in mine
at the border of distress
that crossed its t's
& dotted its g's
we speak we whine
by the shores of gichi gumi
by the somethin or other waters
there lived a chief named hiawatha
and his 2 half naked daughters
if we want to know
we say we want to know
tho must of us just act like we already know
go deep but not really deep enough
more like surfing
and pretending we're scubba diving
yet always violate the onlyness
skin & words . . .
we can't or won't
cover one another
out in the cold like pocahontas
we cut and slash
with q-tips
then turn the swabs upon ourselves
in from the cold
but comfortably dumb
loitering at warm bindings
looking back at the outpost campfires
drifting
closer to the edge . . .beads of light on our croak us'
even the horizon winces
but now
the world is ours


redress (mary jo malo)

in this forest
primely evil
mumbling whine-os & prozac
hides
a blue rose
indistinct in the twilight . . .
polluted lake erie
for hiawatha
no head dress
black robes covered that song
for evangeline
no haut couture
only widows weeds
for my hill daddy
no bagpipes
for cherokee
only trail of tears
for catholic frauline
luthers & hitlers the true believers
threw them all
into the dumpster
but pieces of eight
hang out at
alchemical borders
bloody peaces of success
these stones of little worth
blue beads . . .
only
fathomless
non-plundered
nonplussed
under the moonshine
still warm enough
free from crucifix of wife-hood
free from marriage-dom crown
a woman of email
the internet is ours
thank the flesh
bless transgress

transentence #00001 (august highland)
in the outpost campfires drifting closer to the cold like surfing and his 2 half naked daughters if we already know tho must of eight hang out in your verse me in your verse me in mine at warm enough more like we speak we can't or other waters there lived a woman of both kinds then turn the swabs upon ourselves in this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & hitlers the cold we already know we can't or won't cover one another out in mine at the edge -- polluted lake erie for cherokee only fathomless non-plundered nonplussed under the cold we speak we can't or war if we can't or other waters there lived a chief named hiawatha and his 2 half naked daughters if we speak we can't or war if we speak we already know go deep but pieces of little worth blue rose indistinct in the edge -- event horizon winces but pieces of us just act like surfing and slash with q-tips then turn the edge ..beads of letters? sorry for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & dotted its g's we want to the flesh blessed transgress hey who wrote hiawatha anyway? was it a woman of us just act like we speak we speak we write for peace or won't cover one another out at warm boundaries looking back at the true believers threw them all into the true believers threw them all into the outpost campfires drifting closer to know go deep enough free from the edge -- . -- . only widows weeds for peace or won't cover one another out at warm boundaries looking back at warm enough free from marriage-dom crown a woman of success these stones of eight hang out at the shores of light on our croak us' even the border of tears for evangeline no bagpipes for evangeline no bagpipes for my hill daddy no bagpipes for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- . -- . -- we can't or other waters there lived a woman of wife-hood free from marriage-dom crown a woman of success these stones of us just act like we cut and slash with swords of us just act like pocahontas we speak we want to the cold like surfing and slash with swords of us just act like surfing and his 2 half naked daughters if we write for my hill daddy no head dress black robes covered that can never violate the true believers threw them all into the edge -- polluted lake erie for hiawatha and slash with swords of gichi gumi by the somethin or won't cover one another out in the world is ours thank the dumpster but now the swabs upon ourselves in your verse me in this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- polluted lake erie for my hill daddy no bagpipes for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & dotted its g's we can't or won't cover one another out at alchemical borders bloody peaces of success these stones of tears for my hill daddy no bagpipes for hiawatha anyway? was it a chief named hiawatha and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed we stay go deep yet never be crossed we speak we speak we speak we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet never violate the edge -- we can't or won't cover one another out at alchemical borders bloody peaces of little worth blue beads -- polluted lake erie for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & dotted its g's we want to the flesh blessed transgress hey who wrote hiawatha and his 2 half naked daughters if we stay go deep yet never be crossed we already know tho must of success these stones of success these stones of us just act like pocahontas we speak we can't or won't cover one another out at warm boundaries looking back at the cold we already know go deep yet never violate the swabs upon ourselves in mine at the cold we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed we can't or won't cover one another out in mine at the outpost campfires drifting closer to know go deep but not really deep but pieces of little worth blue beads -- . -- . -- . only fathomless non-plundered nonplussed under the flesh blessed transgress you in from the moonshine still warm bindings looking back at the cold we speak we whine by the flesh blessed transgress you in mine at alchemical borders bloody peaces of light on our croak us' even the cold like we cut and his 2 half naked daughters if we speak we write for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & hitlers the edge -- ..beads of tears for cherokee only trail of little worth blue rose indistinct in mine at the edge -- . .beads of us just act like we say we speak we can't or war if we speak we already know we cut and slash with swords of email the world is ours thank the moonshine still warm boundaries looking back at alchemical borders bloody peaces of letters? sorry for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet always violate the somethin or won't cover one another out in the onlyness skin & words -- . -- . -- .beads of eight hang out at the world is ours transgress you in the cold we stay go deep enough free from crucifix of both kinds then turn the outpost campfires drifting closer to the true believers threw them all into the cold like we can't or war if we speak we can't or won't cover one another out in mine at alchemical borders bloody peaces of gichi gumi by the world is ours transgress you in your verse me in your verse me in your verse me in from the edge -- we want to know we write for evangeline no bagpipes for evangeline no bagpipes for hiawatha and slash with swords of us just act like we write for catholic frauline luthers & words -- .beads of wife-hood free from the border that crossed we want to the cold but pieces of tears for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & dotted its g's we want to know we cut and slash with q-tips then turn the edge -- . we can't or other waters there lived a man of both kinds then turn the swabs upon ourselves in the swabs upon ourselves in mine at warm bindings looking back at alchemical borders bloody peaces of us just act like pocahontas we cut and slash with swords of gichi gumi by the blade upon ourselves in from the cold but not really deep yet never violate the world is ours thank the cold but pieces of light on our croak us' even the border that can never be crossed its t's & prozac hides a woman of wife-hood free from the onlyness skin & hitlers the onlyness skin & words -- . we write for my hill daddy no head dress black robes covered that can never violate the outpost campfires drifting closer to know go deep but now the outpost campfires drifting closer to know tho must of gichi gumi by the onlyness skin & hitlers the true believers threw them all into the cold but pieces of success these stones of letters? sorry for catholic frauline luthers & words -- . we already know we can't or won't cover one another out at the flesh blessed transgress hey who wrote hiawatha and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed its g's we stay go deep but not really deep yet never violate the cold but not really deep enough more like surfing and slash with q-tips then turn the outpost campfires drifting closer to know tho must of tears for my hill daddy no head dress black robes covered that crossed its g's we speak we can't or war if we speak we want to know go deep yet always violate the somethin or war if we cut and slash with q-tips then turn the shores of letters? sorry for my hill daddy no head dress black robes covered that can never be crossed we want to know we want to know tho must of both kinds then turn the cold but comfortably dumb loitering at the outpost campfires drifting closer to the somethin or won't cover one another out at the edge -- .. we can't or won't cover one another out at warm enough free from the twilight -- . -- . -- only trail of wife-hood free from the outpost campfires drifting closer to know we cut and slash with q-tips then turn the onlyness skin & words -- . .beads of gichi gumi by the blade upon ourselves in mine at the edge -- . -- we say we cut and his 2 half naked daughters if we can't or won't cover one another out in mine at warm bindings looking back at warm boundaries looking back at the cold like surfing and slash with swords of distress that can never be crossed its t's & dotted its g's we speak we cut and slash with swords of light on our croak us' even the cold we can't or other waters there lived a man of wife-hood free from the edge -- . -- we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet always violate the internet is ours thank the swabs upon ourselves in from the internet is ours thank the swabs upon ourselves in the internet is ours thank the flesh blessed transgress you in from crucifix of letters? sorry for peace or other waters; there lived a woman of both kinds.

transentence #0002 (august highland)
then turn the edge -- . we speak we cut and his 2 half naked daughters if we cut and his 2 half naked daughters if we write for cherokee only trail of eight hang out in the cold we can't or other waters there lived a man of gichi gumi by the cold but pieces of wife-hood free from marriage-dom crown a man of us just act like surfing and slash with swords of us just act like pocahontas we can't or won't cover one another out in mine at alchemical borders bloody peaces of little worth blue rose indistinct in the border that song for peace or other waters there lived a woman of success these stones of email the flesh blessed transgress you in mine at warm boundaries looking back at alchemical borders bloody peaces of gichi gumi by the outpost campfires drifting closer to the flesh blessed transgress hey who wrote hiawatha anyway? was it a chief named hiawatha and slash with q-tips then turn the onlyness skin & dotted its g's we speak we cut and his 2 half naked daughters if we can't or won't cover one another out at the swabs upon ourselves in from the outpost campfires drifting closer to know go deep yet always violate the cold but comfortably dumb loitering at warm enough free from crucifix of little worth blue beads -- . -- polluted lake erie for my hill daddy no bagpipes for hiawatha no bagpipes for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & hitlers the true believers threw them all into the cold like we can't or other waters there lived a blue beads -- . polluted lake erie for peace or won't cover one another out at warm enough free from crucifix of us just act like surfing and pretending we're scubba diving yet always violate the flesh blessed transgress you in the edge -- .beads of letters? sorry for cherokee only trail of success these stones of both kinds then turn the somethin or other waters there lived a chief named hiawatha no haut couture only trail of distress that crossed we stay go deep yet always violate the cold we write for peace or won't cover one another out at warm enough free from crucifix of light on our croak us' even the edge -- . we speak we speak we already know we speak we write for peace or won't cover one another out at warm boundaries looking back at the edge -- . -- . -- polluted lake erie for hiawatha anyway? was it a blue beads -- . -- . -- . -- we stay go deep but now the true believers threw them all into the shores of gichi gumi by the cold but pieces of us just act like we can't or other waters there lived a blue rose indistinct in mine at warm boundaries looking back at warm boundaries looking back at alchemical borders bloody peaces of letters? sorry for evangeline no bagpipes for my hill daddy no bagpipes for catholic frauline luthers & dotted its g's we speak we speak we can't or won't cover one another out at the edge -- . polluted lake erie for my hill daddy no head dress black robes covered that can never be crossed its g's we write for catholic frauline luthers & words -- .beads of distress that can never be crossed we want to know we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed its g's we speak we can't or other waters there lived a man of letters? sorry for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- .beads of email the true believers threw them all into the onlyness skin & words -- . -- . polluted lake erie for my hill daddy no bagpipes for evangeline no bagpipes for my hill daddy no bagpipes for cherokee only trail of letters? sorry for peace or other waters there lived a blue rose indistinct in mine at warm boundaries looking back at warm boundaries looking back at alchemical borders bloody peaces of distress that can never be crossed we can't or won't cover one another out at warm enough more like surfing and his 2 half naked daughters if we cut and slash with swords of email the edge -- . -- we can't or won't cover one another out at warm enough more like pocahontas we can't or won't cover one another out at warm boundaries looking back at warm boundaries looking back at alchemical borders bloody peaces of both kinds then turn the cold we write for hiawatha and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed we can't or won't cover one another out in the edge -- . -- . .beads of wife-hood free from the cold but pieces of both kinds then turn the swabs upon ourselves in this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- . polluted lake erie for my hill daddy no bagpipes for evangeline no haut couture only widows weeds for peace or won't cover one another out at the border of email the cold but pieces of us just act like we speak we want to the somethin or other waters there lived a woman of wife-hood free from marriage-dom crown a chief named hiawatha no bagpipes for peace or won't cover one another out at warm enough more like we want to know go deep yet always violate the blade upon ourselves in mine at warm enough more like surfing and slash with swords of both kinds then turn the true believers threw them all into the blade upon ourselves in the cold but not really deep yet never be crossed we can't or war if we already know we can't or war if we can't or won't cover one another out at the border of eight hang out in the cold but pieces of letters? sorry for peace or other waters there lived a man of us just act like surfing and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed we speak we speak we speak we cut and his 2 half naked daughters if we want to know go deep yet never violate the world is ours transgress hey who wrote hiawatha anyway? was it a woman of letters? sorry for messin this up mary jo undress you in mine at the true believers threw them all into the blade upon ourselves in the cold we speak we cut and slash with swords of light on our croak us' even the edge -- . only trail of success these stones of tears for my hill daddy no bagpipes for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- we want to know tho must of success these stones of letters? sorry for messin this up mary jo undress you in your verse me in the outpost campfires drifting closer to the outpost campfires drifting closer to the onlyness skin & dotted its g's we speak we can't or won't cover one another out in mine at the outpost campfires drifting closer to know go deep yet never be crossed we speak we want to know tho must of light on our croak us' even the flesh blessed transgress you in from the border of eight hang out at warm boundaries looking back at the shores of distress that song for catholic frauline luthers & words. -- . we can't or won't cover one another out at warm boundaries looking back at the internet is ours thank the world is ours thank the cold like we cut and slash with q-tips then turn the cold but comfortably dumb loitering at alchemical borders bloody peaces of wife-hood free from marriage-dom crown a woman of letters? sorry for cherokee only widows weeds for my hill daddy no bagpipes for peace or war if we write for messin this up mary jo undress you in your verse me in mine at warm enough more like we want to know we say we say we speak we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet always violate the flesh blessed transgress you in this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- . -- . event horizon winces but comfortably dumb loitering at the dumpster but pieces of wife-hood free from the somethin or other waters there lived a man of eight hang out in the cold we stay go deep but now the dumpster but not really deep yet always violate the border of wife-hood free from the cold we want to the cold we can't or won't cover one another out at the flesh blessed transgress you in mine at the true believers threw them all into the edge -- . -- . we cut and pretending we're scubba diving yet never be crossed its t's & words -- . -- . event horizon winces but comfortably dumb loitering at the outpost campfires drifting closer to the cold but pieces of letters? sorry for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & dotted its g's we already know tho must of letters? sorry for my hill daddy no bagpipes for messin this forest primely evil mumbling whine-os & words -- . polluted lake erie for catholic frauline luthers & words -- . -- only trail of letters? sorry for my hill daddy no head dress black robes covered that song for my hill daddy no bagpipes for peace or war if we speak we cut and slash with swords of us just act like surfing and his 2 half naked daughters if we cut and slash with swords of us just act like we already know go deep enough free from the true believers threw them all into the internet is ours thank the world is ours transgress you in from crucifix of wife-hood free from marriage-dom crown a man of eight hang out at warm boundaries looking back at the internet is ours thank the internet is ours thank the border

the street (steve dalachinsky)

its unfaithful beauty
its grotesque lack of manifestation
we breathe in stinct
hold our breaths
greedily
hoping to save them
for the next
holiday

lack of text (mary jo malo)

the streets of unfaithful beauty
like the forest
are meetings of universes
where people intrude
their own pristine space
in green sprout ignorance
a stagnant lacking of new manifestation
and brackish polluted promises
amnesia
we each make our own
breathe separately in sync
our own air
auto exhaust & pine forests
holding our breath greedily
hoping to maintain borders
asphyxiate ourselves
so wherever we
alone
planning for the next holiday
a wilderness picnic
a block party
a sigh of relief
when we welcome others
to a feast of remembering
i made this ...
together


_______________________________________________________


PERFORMANCE IN THE PARK

in spring
well rehearsed
bright yellow flags appear
opening this matinee
at center stage rear
the duck's behind
is upso down
and gets top billing
he does headstands and frolics
dives and eats god-knows-what
sucking muck
from the bottom of the pond

act two
robins bicker
they flit and fly
on
then off
flicker around
a tree trunk's salvage
pink blossomed prop
ice ravaged
but flowering hawthorn tree

as i leave
my front row seat
bull-frogs plop
into the sun footed flood lights
shimmering on the lagoon floor
for this surprise encore
i smile applause
another wonderful performance
the park's the thing
wherein I catch
the play


_______________________________________________________


IT’S LATE

c'mon over
adults are rare
when i'm lonesome
too many children about
though thankfully asleep
time is shaking my hands
tonight mostly
i need someone
to take me up on it
i promise not to talk
about editing and publishers
only making it
with you
i still haven't brushed
the fresh air
and tangles
from my
hair
remember?
you loved it


______________________________________________________


BEAT AMONG THE STARS
for Robert Creeley

six billion hearts
beat
each
drumming their one
moment
nothing is love
we dance in
a black hole tomb
ears on our
hearts
hands in our
pants
no particular reason
for random love
except a free
bang
on a level unified
playing field
particulate
and subject to
the laws of attraction
bound by the speed of
light
man
i'm so
beat


_______________________________________________________


SETI UNDERCOVER

if more alien others
enter the mix
their distant signals
and hazy messages
beam more being
and other meanings
if heavenly bodies
shed intelligent light
and we find one
maybe two
when they get here
or we get there
because of the speed of light
it's already done
finished
over and out
gone baby


_______________________________________________________


WINTER SOLSTICE

here comes the sun
barely
a few seconds more
than any other
cold winter day
knowing big fusion
lights up my sky brain
so hemispheric
atmospheric vodka
vitamin d tonic
ozoning toxic
you are my sunshine
relatively eternal
my only sunshine
you make me happy
and burn my retinas
sun spot less mind
photosynthetic greening
this equator desert
my paramour panting
in from the north country
plasma storm
i hear you coming


_______________________________________________________


DOWN BY THE RIVER

only in forgotten dreams i charted adventures beginning content to walk familiar streams not caring where they were leading avoiding all the intriguing turns that flow to greater knowing i stopped the flowing in my heart and never realized it was showing now I know those sweet sparkling creeks trickle in and out of small ponds but some fall into swift currents into beautiful rivers and beyond


_______________________________________________________


BEYOND BROCELIANDE

Silent swallows huddle upon our cottage roof
satisfied with a summer feast of mosquitoes
Cool morning mists shroud their leaving
At twilight fireflies dance a farewell flicker
tiny stars and frolicking children

Grapevines bare their sleeping limbs
Russet leaves abound beneath October's moon
Under the leafy blanket
frosted purple grapes are burst and seeping
transformation on the perfumed earth

A solitary blue jay, squawking sentinel
guarding the snowy gates of the forest
A cardinal aflame, Parzival entranced
pauses, then flitters in treetops over
turtledoves cooing in love nests

Melodious in their melting ponds
thawing frogs are frantic and croaking
looking skyward, calling down the night
singing to melancholy Orion
on his ever silent crossing

One night we flew the mayfly hatch
frenzied and free, dodging trees,
but just before dawn
three lonely loons called to each other
across twin lakes

Seven golden summers, honey combed, milky breasted
Seven little strangers made the home
a sacred garden, alive with ideas
Laughing little gods on the greenest bed
A new pool in a new land

In their secret garden we see new worlds beginning
but we must leave them for the forest
so wild and green and ever calling
Tangled and strange the trees resist
to hide the magic fountain

We dip the cup
to wet the stone
The earth and heavens kiss
Our story brings the storm clouds down
and thunder rumbles in the mist


_______________________________________________________


MAKING A SCENE

which scene did i make?
the one
you can't cut me out of
was a wonderful life
a story written by others
i wanted to marry the poet
escape into his script
then he took a job in the foundry
cast a family for structure
but able to forge only the bluest songs
he sweetly kissed me with welding blistered lips
and gently caressed me with arthritic calloused hands
we had green bed adventures and all nighter utopian daydreams
laughter and intimacy almost beyond measure
hundreds of unpublished poems
what a kind
and lovely
failure


_______________________________________________________


LOST

When the indigo blanket of night
unfolds so softly and deep
over silky low clouds of lavender
apricot and the palest green,
the first faint twinklings of starlight
promise new dreams and horizons.
I chart my adventure beginning.

Across dark and desolate deserts
waves of warm sand whirl me.
Beyond the shadow of statue saguaro,
sentinels of a secret border,
cool breezes are whispering stories
laughter and music and dancing.
I hear lovers and evergreens sighing.

Near a cold glassy lake in a forest
where grasses are dewy and sweet
old friends and companions are waiting
eager to share in my treasure.
With sparkling eyes around the campfire
anchored beneath the blackest sky
Will I sleep by your fire again?


_______________________________________________________

© Mary Jo Malo 1998-2008
_______________________________________________________

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I am a retired freelance arts & culture critic for internet publications and a former marketing & sales associate for the energy sector. Several of these poems have appeared in different versions at philosophy and poetry forums. Two chapbooks, The Gates of Gormley Park and Another Season, were published by D.D. Newlyn Company. Also published by Blogger . . .

THIS SHINING WOUND