Lost
Again, here am I
In this torrid clime.
In my pocket
Half a stick of Juicy Fruit,
Sweet though dried-up.
A gust of sand
Spins up the railroad track:
It is the end, again.
I find a cigarette
But have no match.
Looking about
Everything shimmers.
The only thing wrong with death
Is that is holds no desire.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Corona
Bioluminous, two ships adrift
Passing in the night
Under the southern light
Aurora Australis
Becoming unmoved and unknowingly
Evolved
Like the supercluster of galaxies
In which they merge
A tingle, an urge
To gaze upward and glow into
One another's maze of faces.
It takes one simple touch to guide them.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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The units of Euripedes
Still figures of headless Greeks
wholesome forms of dominion to them
while talking all along
without heads but with heady words
leaning into the still of discovery
ages unto ages
their faces only masks
their courtyards the kingdom
of painstaking boredom
but reaping the nature of our
tortured time to come
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Sylvan Scene
Crunching through snow,
High Arizona plateau;
Mt. Humphreys as backdrop,
Aspen forest,
I see a cabin church,
Crude thing,
A cross in perspective set
On the highest peaks behind.
So inside I went,
To the warmth,
To the candle glow:
It almost made a Christian out of me,
(Like 2 Mahler) :
Fond memory.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Jagged Edges
Imagine, yourself-no, be there! -in a canyon,
Crisscrossed with sharp steel edges,
Rim to rim,
The Grand Canyon of canyons;
You're at the bottom-
There is no way out
Unslicing yourself.
That's the blues, not the greens,
(Like the colored wedges) ,
You feel wedged in every day
In the canyon of imperfection.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Fear of Goldilocks
Say we are food, like porridge;
Say our lands cuddle buns like chairs;
And hold a body or more as comfortably as a well-made bed.
Then if Goldilocks comes here
From a doomed planet afar,
To secure a new home,
We might be the fit-in-a-trillion,
And here she (they) might sit
And decide to stay.
Fear her today.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Nightmares Fall
The sky is crowding!
Far off in the
Milky Way a civilization far more advanced is crushed,
Their domed city but a squeezed- out blemish on a dead planet;
If they have come, we start awake with fearful dreams;
If they have seen,
We cannot see them;
If they begin to conquer,
All that we fear the most
Comes true.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Nowhere Roads
Northern Nevada,
Where they lay a road
Through a choked desert
Up a mountain,
Then down to another clawed land.
Somewhere between the deserts
I saw a single boot
Dead in the road.
Where was this man, I wondered?
Stumbling hurt among the cacti?
I doubted it,
Peering into the shadows
At the ghosts
Who were nowhere.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Pretty in Placerville
Hands are made for grasping
Gold, dust in brown canvass bags, nuggets
For teeth impressions.
Dust trails lead in and out
Of toil and thirst. The thirst for
Gold, soul of the merciless mine.
The gold is mine.
My fingers are worn short
From rolling in the abrasives;
My lips made thin by kissing
The sun come down to earth.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Radio Waves
In SETI
Radio waves are the beacon
Of hope This is
Anthropocentrism Because
Eusociality (the hive mind) as with
Bees, ants and wasps
That trail & discover
Is a totally different matter
So might they
They may be undiscoverable
This way via the top hits
Of the galactic jive
Go then
There are animals right here
First to find
poem by Stan Petrovich
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