This prison is mighty, and mightily made,
Not even a wave of light is allowed,
Nor can the inmates have sound,
And a telescope is too close to this place.

But here is a man of science,
  A safe distance he thinks he is relying,
But no data is allowed from this prison,
Soon as he stepped close an inmate went missing,
Like being ankle deep in a pre- tsunami sea,
Immobilized,
One step, two step, three,
Too bad, the shore is so close,
With all the people he knows,
Pure pity in their eyes,
Even if he could escape the prison
his own newborn babe would slay him at range.
Now the descent,
Locomotive strength drawn into a drain,
Like a towering tidal wave of oblivion-
the door to this prison.

The tide slowly recedes,
shore running away fast,
The sound of a scream
ripped into the doom
and broke apart like glass.

I wouldn't resist the tide,
Nor close the eyes,
Give respect to the Mighty One,
Who made the prison and the inmates inside.

Darling global warming is true of course,
Just read the graphs and watch the tv reports,
Honey you are acting strange?
Stay home today and we'll go to the firing range.

Darling, darling, you have depression,
Look at the snowflake that you are clutching,
Sweden's snow disappearing down to nothing,
honey, your nervous twitching unrelenting,
Look! a dark eyed Junco, fleeing, flitting,
No need to fly south and so is sitting,
and not to mention--
They robbed you dear, of your youthful spring,
And so the junco in your winter will not sing,
Honey, hurry, watch this news,
Melting slurry during the winter moon.

"You robbed me of my youth."
Oh how the winter's cruel,
Honey, its true of course--
Look! a summer hawk in winter's morph.
Look, honey!  all the people are in flames,
spinning like the weather-vanes.

The utmost beauty, I ever espied,
a river ******* overtaken by a saltwater tide.

The sun bleached pebbles "Ka-ching"
Climbing down an ocean wall of railroad ties,
I see the ******* from this L-shaped cove,
I do not tarry for my burning soles,
the cooling sand then ankle cold.

My foot feels the soft murky grass,
A crab's tickles across my foot,
then I trip over line of a derelict trap,
I quickly recover after chilling splash,
And search a more clear and sandy path,

The horseshoe crab retreating to waist high deep,
Where forlorn buoys and rowboats rock to sleep,
Like a helmet with many mechanical legs,
She disappears into the darkness with her many eggs,
I turn to look back at the cottage I left behind,
Like a cat o' nine-tail the flag whips the sky.

I reach the clean and purest sand,
Of this island not made by man,
My steps bring me up amidst this river,
unlike the coming current that makes me shiver,
the water is in no rush a nice warming touch,
I find a hollow and recline as if in a tub,
and watch the seagulls battle the wind above,
The cottages looks so distant fleeting,
The air above shingles distorted from super heating.

The wind intercepts all shouts from shore,
like an osprey swooping down then back to soar,
It is alittle lonely, and beyond the ******* scares me,
I think a jellyfish--
when my foot touches something hairy,
Things cruise by in the current,
Then I start to notice my ******* fading,
I must leave or soon be wading.

Back at the cottage,
With children laughing, calling, sand castle making,
Through itchy dune grass and hot sand traipsing,
I look back at the river in full high tide,
Waiting for my island to rise.

I do not need a grand sepulchre,
Nor be remembered in bronze,
Don't need a sculpted beauty
To tend me after I'm gone.
No reflecting fount
Or grand account,
No Angels of death,
No Angels of peace,
No greek god in bas relief.
Leave me be, let me not be still,
Let those metallic wings flutter from winter chill,
Let the past be dead,
And my memory make you friends,
Let my memory conjure love,
And not cold to touch,
Let it rival the sunset,
With the dawning wings of the Oriole above.

Bury all our woes from household ills,
Without maintenance--
--Without upkeep--
Overgrown on our stroll through the Forest Hills.

She is thirty five,
But I see twelve,
" I love you mommy"
After being flip and raised by hell,
It's too late for love,
" Get the hell out of my house."

She told a memory,
Once,
About her dad and herself,
" Daddy please don't go behind there with her."
She doesn't tell her mother, but the truth comes out,

" He took me to see the fireworks."
In an innocent voice of twelve.

A thought from Frost,
"Fire or Ice* in the end?"
Fire is revenge,
Ice is cruel deep and dark,
both will come,
Like icy comets,
That heat up when breaking apart,
Not from the heavens,
But from the human heart.

Funny thing 'bout dreams,
From whence they come?
And when they go?,
golfing with Jackie,
did not speak did not joke,
An eerie sunlight,
in the golf cart, as he drove.

Then it was night,
Where did he come from?
Now his brother and I in snow,
car broke down,
Jackie shows up to do the tow,
He did not speak, he did not joke,
Realized,
" Jackie you over-dosed."
He proceeded on,
So he would not leave I did not come close,
When he came I did not know,
Amid the boundless night and endless snow.
Funny thing dreams--
" ****** Jackie say something--please!"

Then I awoke,
Only empty night and lonely snow.