&what light can do, –
revealing just how much of
a sequined party is going on,
when all i can do is pass
unauthorized green veins,
pink husks invisibly through it
–heartbreak hands never
quite catching the light;
stirring the catalogued years
of wheat fields waving.
gold is the color i taste.
for Twiglet & Real Toads
The whIte of the wInd Unleashes my Head
aNd I am Drunk. my skin turns to sIlk.
I'm the scent of sweet grasses. SImple.
Christ wraps around me. noT unbIddEn.
spIrIt laps my Face lIke an unblinking I,
or a lash pressed upOn me. I pay attentIon.
Tornado I say, Pour wIld. Pour easily. Pour
Gold &daIsIes. thOUgh I am undone, tHough
I am unHInged, & dISheveled I trust my ear
& leap. BodacIous. In motIon. In whIte
nOIse. whIte lIght. I'm so close to helpless
I'm pErfEctIon. There's no dIsguISing
the featHErs. there's no dIs-GuIsIng the
dancIng starfIsh whO sInG I love you! aNd
as rIdIculous as our encounter Is, out back
In my lAWn &garden chaIr, I rEally mEan It.
for dVerse poets
in a cool dry place
i pour my fortune
like hot sauce over
bamboo, or ketchup
over hot dog.
it’s the year of
of natural color.
i break the foil
and get on with it,
remembering good things
and the number three.