Blinking Dove

On Tuesday I built an entire machine
from red. I put the last screws in late
at night, nearly Wednesday, and breathed
the last in mourning. A mighty wedge
split through the dark and dear,
filled my outside with my entire inside.
Clearly, it didn't work perfectly.
I still woke up and had work to do.


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a flight of rushes

wouldn't my disappearing ink voice

   have more weight if I could hold

you again still against the machines

   your love has made I vanish

readily easy as running away warm

   days colliding with covers of frost

forgetting chapters of kisses awash

   at the riverbank butterfly wings

live longer than the flight of rushes

   heads bent to the art of forgetting

how you went on ahead how I dried

   up into the reaches of a dark vessel

how I waved with everything I had

   at the absolute edge before falling in


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Look Out

You look out
 There's always another way
  Voices, visions
   What is this shade?
  She says she does not like it
 He says it's dumb and farts

     A thing is time
      because it exists, existed
       Reason is inside
        Unless you resist it
         then the lion starts

       Four legs a mane and tail
      is everything that matters
    Take them away and look
   no lion. The earth pales
  a sadness not of despair
 but imminent departs


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