Crows scribble the sky,
My heart falling like the sun,
  .  .  .  Night rains upon day.

Gone, my mistress of the long dark hair
And the ravens, still, as always remain
Silent, as the flight of the horned owl
Deep in the tangle of black mountains.

Crystal light— sun shines,
All the world, memories of groove,
  .  .  .  Akashic record.

Moonlit waters creep—
Bare feet, hands held, old crescents,
Lake shores, loneliness.

My love is kept, and I have nailed
Her face to mine in a box of sleep,
A chamber for lost chances, subtle
Visitations, concrete emanations,
Somnambulistic signs and mercies
Elation, we walk through meadows
Of the mending sun, sweetly chaste,
Ever deep into the wandering shift,
That tearing time and moon allows,
Real as dream, to the lands of night.

Hardness, harsh breathing,
Sun silent— night in morning,
Cold, dry, empty bed.

I was unaccustomed to keyless locks,
Nor the binding doors
You set ajar, like a teasing shock,
Bled deep in the chambers of the heart,

Where the arteries of your hair played on
And strung my out to fry,
Until my hands were roped and singed raw
Spurned in the chambers of the heart.

I was deserted, lost, run aground, drowned,
By the ocean of your eyes,
Wholly held, captive in loves ghostly mansion,
***** alive, in the chambers of the heart.

Mover and shaker,
Tombstone face waits to be writ,
  .  .  .  Even after death.

Times tackle on the threads.
We beat the strand seahorse
Dashed, unfurl the curling
Toes, your body twists
In the boat, only ribs
From the spirit waters.  
Your fish fins from the net,
My rod pins on the pine
And the hooked meat, your barb,
Reels as it plays the swampy
Moan of the gutted bait.

She hides her beauty,
Hair fondles windy nature—
Their open secret.

I Hear All The Outlawed World

                        I

I hear all the outlawed world in harmony,
The marshling stalks the green and gaunt
Destroyers who heed not sparkling deserts
Charged to the gill, nor candles pitching down
Like doom.  I note the scale of fossils
In cloud covered peaks, record
The seemly count of bodies by square root
And irrational number, I am witness
Bound to bounty to all who blaze in gray
And shallow grooves seeding their ends
In strikes on the ripe and smoldering fields.

                        II

I see all the outlawed world in harmony,
Barking wood bracing by the bud,
Where runs of blue, bury in vain
Down slash of mountain forest, cascading
Into august, rising after the fall,
As do kind-killers blasting from shells
To die as snails creeping under flower,
Who saw the past wasting away
In filed futures, slipping by blades in neck
Of wood, sightless as gallows of trees
Try ****** each time they make their leaves.


                        III

I know all the outlawed world in harmony,
By seamless song of stuttering gulls,
As in conches, waves of providence,
Cell from the center, beating musseled shoals,
Where wailing ghosts and wing-tips point
Printed nails to the silent capes,
And bumble hairs comb round the broken yokes
Stirring streams of babble baited
By flowering psalms, engaging arms to prey
On tales told by the rood and drown
In eyes turning like sands on the sea.

Not fair— her dear swishing body,
The cling of shearing Indian cotton,
Cool nights of wine pouring shoddy,
Broken truths, laid to rest, forgotten.

Rogue, unmovable,
Dark force objects of maiden,
  .  .  .  Irresistible.