DELICATE BUSINESS

 

It’s a damned near full moon

It’s clear,  a bracing

evening.  I’ll exhale out

to trace the treeline  off

to a nothing northern florida town.

She sat at a flea market

where tons of townies in camouflage jackets

pressed past her at her table and chair.

Her pronounced pretty eyes

were the ideal quirk for gypsy fortune tell work.

Green, like beach glass.

How might they see me?

How can she be expected to espouse

All Ahead  for me   there?

At that table & chair there, exposed

to that flea market crowd?

Men, off to gun tables.

Women, drawn up the way

where puppies are given away

(hunting dogs no doubt)

How Soul-intimate can my gypsy and I get?

Can she pull out

All that’s in

In all of this dumbed-down din?

It’s delicate business…

There’s this inarticulate air here

Against which…without a hitch..

.I want to wonder over every word..

I want to wonder for every prophetic word.

How can we do this with clothes on?  Absurd.

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I can see, by the chance

of this damned near full moon,

I’ll watch the line of my breath dance

just off the distant treeline,

Off to tomorrow’s full sun soon.

 

FIRECOLOR

Too late darknesses,
To too early empty dawns,
On to one firecolor
Promise of one more sunrise.
Go on, roll down the window.

TO SPEAK OF SPARROWS

Lyca Caparros- photo

 

TO SPEAK OF SPARROWS

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To speak of sparrows
In shrapnel filled world war one
Fields, winds, scarlet dawn

They will sing to find
Their own kind, if they have lived,
They will call and call,
‘Tween blood and budding daybreak,
A song will find it’s way back

REFUSING THE DAWN

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I can Recognize, but hell, I can’t Realize so well.
I’d drink more coffee but my cardiologist insists I don’t
I’d drink more coffee but my heart man prescribes “not so smart, man”.

I’d think more whiskey would push me to bask at last in a primal light,

but my general practitioner generally frowns about practicing until I get it right.

I’d read more but eyes see less.. I digress,

I’d come 2/pray more/give in/give more/dream-sleep in/weep for once/

walk the lit dark like I used to/ Take in the dark light. I’ve so far refused to.

I can Recognize, but hell,

I don’t Realize so well.

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(FROM AT LEAST A DECADE BACK)

I SHOULD DO…AH CHOO

Photo by Victor Talashuk (unsplash)

I SHOULD DO… AH CHOO

 

On every dawn
I’ll strive to stake out time
To pick up a pen

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I’ll squint out the light
Go over my piano
At first, and again

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I’ll pull down the shade
Thus I can practice my art
At first, and again

P A R I S

I LONG to stay stabbing, & stay above

The sullen, crestfallen  long run of things.

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ALONG our river, a song, not near, comes outa corridor

Firelight on a black and white picture. Above.

One  man  walks  on  red  leaves

In a black & white picture  of

The long run of things.

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A  LONE  man,  leaves,  and dawn

Draping him.  Not much

Escape for him, in the long run of things.

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Le pont Louis-Philippe vu à travers le pont Marie (version flou), circa 1935

[From the Réunion des Musées Nationaux]

That’s How You Sing Amazing Grace

“Those bells’ve been ringing now for years/Someday I’ll give it all away/That’s how you sing Amazing Grace” -LOW, from “Amazing Grace”

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As specified in final arrangements
The kids could only draw near enough
To Temples, & to what resembles Temples,
To take big pictures, big sky country shots,
& pot shots,
For a faraway featuring of folly.
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Go down always face down the hall,
This dawn displays holy sun rays smoke
And on the just rightly out of tune upright bass
My at rest in peace bare-chested Daddy
Just barely jazzin up most all of a
New England Protestant hymnal
Ones his mother, Grace
Sang through softly over & over
Busy at her own handiwork as ever

“I see today that everyone on earth
wants the answer to the same question
but none has the language to ask it.”
– Jim Harrison

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I’ll swear I’ll answer

To some other

Gruesome monster

Than me,

& my gal,

Higher powers,

Et  al

In fact I’ll face up

Soon as the sun’s up

ON WAITING FOR CHANGE

between  my  matins

& the very next dawn’s

last ditch whispers,

pleas

Elucidating  light  is  just  off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“There’s nothing good because nothing lasts
And all that comes here, it comes here to pass.
I would voice my pain, but the change wouldn’t last.
All that comes, it comes here to pass.”

                                                         AVETT BROTHERS, from “Down With The Shine”

 

 

 

 

DAWN’S ON ME RHYME

I’d say of me   I’m savvy.

I’d say  that plea  “C’est la vie”,

&  Mash the rest  w/gravy

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I could conclude  at dark’s end.

I’d sharpen that plea, for

“..Aussi  une  nuit  noire”,

& Watch the rest  w/ “save me”

 

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