i stand before the reflecting glass
and glower at the green lights looming at me
my thoughts scamper
and i reach for anything
to **** the pain

There are bare-breasted women
lounging in the unmade bed
of my mind.
They teach me chords on the piano,
and how to stay grateful
in the face of time;
how it lingers between seconds,
but years go by unannounced.

We don't make love. We ****,
taking back each wasted Sunday
spent talking to G-d,
or waiting for political truth.
They run their fingers over my back,
send me to a sleep
of dried sweat and loving violence.
They send me sunflower seeds and ****

in the post,
so I can bloom by the open window
and feel warmth through winter.
There are powerful women
laying down the law by the clock tower.
They stand up for Syria
and challenge the authority
I had conjured in my mind.

Long longing searching look
into the stillness around
and I find I am part of the whole
living world and separate as well
so separate to be undefinable
almost giddy with no foothold
my hands touch the space
where my mind used to be
and the soul is freedom, and freed

we will not be having the grey child.  

word is
it is nothing
if not
an embarrassment
of imagery.  

with god-given whale sounds
it consoles
description.