XV

XV

Spend more time in warm climates.
Sand angels.
Sand master. Master of sand.
Control them. Own them.
Sand grains bow to me.
Take the bat.
Smash the glass.
A smash and grab job.
Grab the sand.
Thief of sand.
Own the sand through force.
The sand is mine.
Smash and grab. Handfuls.

XIII & XIV

XIII

[ … ]

XIV

To be the snow. The snow,
the snow. Falling daily.
Melting daily. A little more
Melting each day. The snow.
Feed the ground. Freeze
the ground. Become the ground.
Vapor. Become the vapor.
Reverse fall. Float back up.
Become the clouds. Float
around the world and see
the world as a patchwork quilt.
Become more snow. The snow.
In the summer, become rain.
But to be the snow is more good
than to become the rain.
The snow is less violent in its own.

XII

XII

Walk on air - never to know the feeling
of cement or asphalt or grass or carpeting
or linoleum or wood unless by chance
I bend to run my palms over it.

Experience surfaces through the fingertips,
let them carry the knowledge of this world
and the roughness and smoothness and
blandness it has to offer- for the fingertips.

XI

XI

Fences that barred entrance—
climbed, hopped, overcome
and the retrospective greener
grass under foot could have
made all the difference(s).

X

X

Against the sneaking black clouds,
the dancing leaves in the distance,

further beyond a bird, indeterminable,
flies, an honest V in the sky, from

blackness to the white to the open
blue. Then trees obstructed my view,

and the bird was gone. Will I see it
ever again? No. Probably not.

Then I rest my face in my hands,
and cry. And cry. And I cry.

IX

IX

A mental desert—
where people
did not return from death;
where dogs
did not warn you of anything
especially of the morning;
where jesus
did not do it for you alone;
where space
truly lacks oxygen;
where birds
are just birds and you
are not one of them
no matter how hard you flap;
where you
yourself, are not anything
but a guy- a girl- a muppet.
Dreams ceased
and my heart stopped.

VIII

VIII

Reversed alphabet-
first in line, line
leader, lines in
the bathroom of
a club I can’t
afford to be in.

Reversed alphabet-
know your Z Y X’s.

VII

VII

The mind could be removed,
pop the skull-top, reach in

pickled-egg-brain on a bar.
When things get dirty,

stop rolling it on the ground!
it’ll collect dirt, pebbles, bits

of hair and grime! put it back!
But no, reach right in, take it

out and play with it, since it is
this removable, you can just

put the spin cycle to DELICATE
and use All-Puprose Cheer to

bring it back to it’s original luster.

IV, V & VI

IV

Had there been
more things that
I took to my grave
rather
than give them away
freely, the wind,
to anyone in a mask
who knocks and asks,
trick or treat?

V

Her name was Alice and
had I known more it would
have given me a connection,
you see, so much like her,
but finding this out far too
late in the game, but we both
enjoy the same foods, we both do.

VI

Music, more of it, everywhere,
if only more empty bottles,
stood in the breeze and whistled.

I, II & III

100 Ways My Life Would Be Different
I

At a younger
age, days spent
laying on back
on the other
side of the train
rails burried
beneath the wild
flowers – listening to
the gossip of bees
and seeing a sky
dotted with
purple and yellow.

II

Trips to a pseudo-beach where sand
is nothing more than combed dirt

aside a lake. Canoes rented, or rather,
the sleekness of a kayak – no,

canoes are more romantic, a giant,
rigid condom enveloping the entire

act, not just a portion of it. Center
of the lake, existing between the land

and the trees with no where to walk,
only a large mirror waiting to engulf you.

III

Untold dream – before
I left you – waterfall
and bathing suits, some guys
across the gap of water
and one wants to rub your
shoulders, knowing full well
what I am/was/should be
to you, but you ask, can I?
as if you didn’t even think.
Do whatever you think
you should do.
And then you are gone,
as if a pipe swallowed
you from the spot
and popped you over
to where he was. As I look
your hand is wrapped around
his exposure and you are
stroking, smiling, looking
directly into my headwindow.

Waking up in moonlight
in the room I don’t expect,
but am surprised, to find you
still next to me, having not
left me at all, but after surprise
comes a severe feeling of red.