calliope

the machinery
that holds up the clouds
a calliope of gently held ideas
suspended in vocal harmony

aloft, soft and fat
1,000 feet above us

rain signals to us
that the machinery
will need reinventing

neither spent nor rusty
nor needing new batteries
it simply will need regrouping

tomorrow morning
when the storm is past
the sun will lift moisture
up to its petticoats
wanting only to see its children,
fed and clothed,
left in peace to inch further
toward some kind
of communal understanding

this is how I write

babble, I
ramble, wander
to communicate
lifting the pen
is as important
as pressing it down
latent urges
make their little
worms known
crawl through
the goo
of expression
leave trails
for others
to follow, yearn
or spurn

refund

drawing a circle
around yourself
pleading with destiny
for a big [tax] break

allowable
as much as
advisable
your refund
must come
from within

winter is coming soon

I flash back
to ornery, mud-eating days
the grit and stone
I can taste the blood
feel the cavities shock and startle
as I run my tongue over my teeth

gone,
gone are the days
of lounging,
popping open a beer
or a blouse

I am incredible
in my honesty
totalitarian
in my compassion

winter is coming soon
with it
the running
running shoes down to
bare soles,
running to fly
if only for a moment

it will be one moment too much
1,000 moments would
not be enough

forget what I said
winter is here

new reason

crotch of this
male dominated society
crumbling,
balls breaking
under the weight
of a new reason

we once thought
male meant
logical, reasonable
detached
but it was so
to the extent
that it was not

your father was so detached
he couldn't kiss you
or comfort you
or even teach you
how to maintenance
your car

reason is not divorced
from the heart
they work in tandem --
random miracles
spontaneous joys
we hold our children
play stupid games with them
love our partners
with passion
married to deep listening