And When He Saw
the silence writ
ten on
the walls
off fenced
his eye
cloud
ed with lo
ve four
freed
oms
utter
ly
twigged
with
jay in a centri
fugit from
sinestra to
d
extra loom
ing men
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poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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love and Noonday onions
if
I hadn't married a Texan
I wouldn't know
they existed
dark cinnamon soil
silk trees everywhere...
acres of pecans
no-see-ums... red, like the itch/sting place after they getcha
sudden heavy sky
raindrops the size of twentyfive cent pieces....there and gone in two minutes
funny what sticks and what doesn't.....well, it all does, minutes, hours, words, music....
this is what decided to surface.....was thinking about garlic.....these words followed....funny.....
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poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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We Argued....
she said the whole of it was metaphor....I said it wasn't.....
refine, I said...reconstrue......it wasn't his way to be other than interspersant ....
we left it at that........each unconvinced....
(I still believe.I was) either (right) ...or wrong.....as was she......I haven't visited the interment place in years.....pinkish marble.....(not the way she'd have spent the money...but it was no longer her party)
she'd laugh to hear me call it an intermissionary position.....
..........she was funny....me, funnier.....and righter...... '>)
poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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There Are, It Would Appear,
those...better prepared
to
roost
less in irony
....more
in those small pockets..
.fob-hung and alleviated...
do they know freedom
as a many-handed force and do not fear confinement... have they stretched....wrapped their legs around the body of earth..... in unbroken glory...just perhaps, (as if it existed) thorough sentience a tertiary factor......
an annuity.......
.but I've not lived their secrets....nor they mine....corollaries multiply, dance a dust bolero....in the end game all is equally semiotic....
each cheek imprinted with a slap, dashing..... a rush to some sea....illuminated as the grunion run...........
poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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Aardwolf in The Void
blackberry trimmings and catkins shuffled to the roadside
to join maple and alder branches snapped by a hard rain
it is hollow
full with many
yet hollow
it confuses time with calendars
it sings of green pines
it is hollow
full with many
and yet hollow
another year
and another
it is a writhing chrysalis
as the nautilus makes its spiraling rounds
periwinkles sing the softer shades of blue
dance with the glories of a hypnoplasmic morning
greet the sun in a seriocomic western sky
waiting
another year
and another
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poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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Valley Views And Skews......mamallama Blues
word is old Pete was dancing at the post office....
.teeth in hand...playing the set of them like maracas..........feet of Klee in a shoeless merengue with flamenco overtones.......
.them's hard callouses he's got.......no way one of Octavio's arrows could penetrate 'em.......
......the sound of it must've been somethin'......
for me, it got drowned out by the car alarm over at the golf course.....the hollerin' from that Escalante/Escadrille/Esplanade/RovingRanger was set off by my little old Jimmy Anne.....the big fella just knew she didn't belong in that neighborhood, bein' born a generation or two before him......got to announcing the infraction full blast.....tickled me......
.we all got our sensitivities...yep........
poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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Disquieting Thoughts...
some might find the act...curling up to die alone... to be one of a noble and natural animal...
.I know differently....
I won't say so anywhere but here....
supposing it is good to have a place where I can be truthful....here in virtual company... no good could come of otherwise giving voice to it... it would, in fact, be an indulgence I will not provide...not for myself...nor for the one of whom I speak...
it saddens, but does not surprise me....as I am no nobler than, well...anyone else, and certainly less so than any beast....I will not give the eulogy...
.I shall sing an elegy in a quiet and sequestered place....when moved to do so...
seems I am, in today's all-too-compromised language, ' in judgment'.... it'll pass...
it's here now....and it's damned uncomfortable.....! $@%#&^(*^%#
poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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