listening to hightide pile it
on thick thru mind, thrusting the
shoreline before it's submerged.
i close eyes i never knew i had,
the tongue hits the roof of the
mouth and a poem recites it-Self.
where went the house of worship?
the rigor mortis of a horseshoe
crab stuck to a boulder...tail
pointing cloudward.

Today I heard a song in passing--
newly dazed lights doo-wopping,
whiney vibratory strings caught
in throaty cries.
Pausing for station identification
on a new planet.
Incessant preciousness tripping
over the fact of a tiny body.
You were born atop a storefront's
air conditioner, I never saw baby
pigeons in New York City before.
Some people here call them flying
rats, **** em--happy belated birthday.

Wounds heal like
hell frozen over--
abstracted blood
never blends in
with the territory
fast enough.
Your long, sharp,
superintelligent
fingernails stake
their claim.
Always repeating:
'oh you poor thing'...
while picking away.

As an all day rain strings
together a falling sea, and
the sound of wetness refuses
to become any word.
Four times closer than closed
walls, taken for nothing at
all between them.
You climb out of me, as a
reminder where you live.
All I can do is watch the
earth drink...and know that's
how things grow.

Of all observable phenomena,
you persist most favorably.
A circular hub of arrows aimed
at a center already hit, dislodging
freedom.
Arrowheads split down a hair.
Epiphanous bulbs counting
the new number needed to
stay conscious.
Of you.

As a compendium
of somber faces
become a dentist's
occupational hazard,
so with death.
Trying to die with
the dying, the very
lifeblood of suicidal
tendency.
Only, the dentist is
successful--and death
is forced to say: open
up wide.

At land end's trembling lip,
passed eye's can-can't see, at the
sky-sea line where vessels dreamt
of falling from.
The king of the animals was bit by
a pair of star-studded teeth, to
dispel the myth of water.
Wild with wilder strokes, their
plunking slip slaps, nowhere-fasting.
Slogging away at ancient rains,
beating their surface round, showing
droplets what they were.
Body to body of water, weightless
upon where great floods got drunk.
Pulled in by the call to insignificance
through the dereliction of duties,
unscrambling the doubling deep's face.
The how of the humbling left to the
king of the animals, back floating...
with the lo-upturned eyes of a saint.