By The Way

Too late a version came close
to recognizing the path
between the decades, you
there absconding with the three
best arbitrations and seven
time-tested suggestions, leave
if you will to do no harm,
build no excess in the examples
with your short and outrageous sleep.
Starlings tucked into the easterly
props are props themselves
all the way from nest to flit,
a wrestle with national slaves
as sacred thoughts stream and gather.
Posterity wears our clothes backward,
while books struggle to cash-in.
An awareness of you in the layers
concocts a new revelation,
tight old secrets with lop-sided hats
hold up in transit
between ticket fare and gas station,
play rummy with old dolls and dragons
in the corner behind the hat stand.
The yawns knock over whole weeks at a time
while eons shuffle between our dust and ankles.

Dirt to Dirt

In the mean bag of your eyes,
in the tragic dent of your human
ears: the small sounds and lights
scatter ash in similes of sand,
how tiny are the explosions
in such strategies as days!
A pinpoint of diamond light
to find our wedded fingers
wrapped around an army
of enemy and kin,
the entire damned breed.
A production of paintings
truly on the head of a pin
amid cloaks of tar emit
a steady shower of moisture
and dust, a batch of mud
cakes and mystery. Peri-
winkles of time
in the lyrical ethos of myco-
bacterium that rescues
literature one last time
as it floats and flirts
in the four o'clock sun.
Between skin and salvation,
the universe erupts
again and again
on as much as a breath as a gust.

By The Way

Too late a version came close
to recognizing the path
between the decades, you
there absconding with the three
best arbitrations and seven
time-tested suggestions, leave
if you will to do no harm,
build no excess in the examples.
Starlings tucked into the easterly
props are props themselves
all the way from nest to flit,
a wrestle with national slaves
as sacred thoughts stream and gather.
Posterity wears our clothes backward,
while books struggle to cash-in.
An awareness of you in the layers
concocts brand new revelations,
tight old secrets held up in transit
between ticket fare and gas station
play rummy with old dolls and dragons
in the corner behind the hat stand.