each grain

drawn
in raw sound
by proclamations

sand through a funnel
each grain, a prediction
representing a possibility
a different order

broaden these streets
simplify your needs
you saints, discrete
inveterate thieves

you deal in love
unreasonable belief
both magic and science
your revolution’s creed

palm to chest

Seer of things in plain sight, unseen
I encounter him
In a television documentary,
Artist-scientist

“It’s a universal rhythm,”
He says,
“We’ve all got it”

“The beat of the heart,
Ba-bump…ba-bump…ba-bump”
Places palm on chest,
Thumps with fingers
“Everybody’s got music”

He plays guitar
For his prison band;
The bluesy funk
I never could understand –
Bass drum,
Ba-bump…ba-bump…
Connecting us all

you are

I'm lucky
to have you
lucky
to be alive
gone and gone
through the mist
of the remembrance
of this –
in static explosions,
the center, the ground
that you are

fliesonthewindow

flitty and inconsequential
good friends of mine
the small, graceful one – carefree
the fat one, pouty and self-important

the cartographer's gold

gold: north
a metaphor
a transformation into light
a realization
arms spread
to soar
and to enfold

gold: south
a standard
a sacrificial lamb
a price on a head
dead desert land
worlds falling apart
a golden calf
a perfect ritual bow
a knowing smile

west:
stymied and stuttering
second rate
second place
we suck their leftovers
through a straw

east:
a steed
a prince
an immaculate reign
a hand on an arm
a push and a threat
a sword raised
a price paid
a heart betrayed
a face portrayed
her portrait
delicate and true
will pierce
his impervious armor

the only victory

when you see
the ramparts untouched
the citizens dancing
with the enemy
you will know
this town did not know
any onslaught
of terror
or weaponry
not strategy
nor logistics
no fallen gate here
no shouts of bitter triumph

just laughter
citadel spire
waving flag
of white and rainbow
and sunlight
just inconceivable joy

for this city
was not taken
by war
it was won over
by love