-There is no Why.-
wet walnuts, mellow daffodils
a vat of cider simmering psalms
smeddum, green aluminum, rhododendrons
childhood lore of fissured concrete:
if you step on a crack, you'll break your back.
whinnies of a newborn foal, the gentle
moon-eyed mother: gli amanti azzuri
snake eggs incubated in manure
Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave.
simple stones circling
a thicket of swollen light swallowed by the moon,
florescent pink ink & salubrious sea air
earthy hands reaching
red clay residue
a glob of black-vermilion
can't remember names can't
piece together letters can't can't
think raindrops on the window dry-dry. the sky
in July, the dark corners in October, the sunlit
snow of February, fresh winter berries
a crocus unfurling where
water tastes like blood, full of iron
laughter, lyrical and languid.
I know I know I know
before you told me this brick house
will be curves &
dashes - the artist said: everything can be reduced
to lines...geometric shafts of light throbbing thunder
in the wind, a canto of whispers, celadon upholstery and
an acoustic guitar, spatial knots spiriting
marble disquiet, chiseled 1844-1863
at traffic lights rows of power in names
to children-stealing goblins my grandmother
stares when I peel grapefruit with nimble fingers
uprooting porous rinds cut down too many times
mist in the mountains floating You must sit.
No. You must sit. No. No. No. Kudzu: besmirched
invasive species of my heart now
we must shear the alpacas.