Snowbanks burst
into radiant light
traffic hushed
as the engine crosses
Route 3.

Focus your camera
or be here now—
the Ram Dass conundrum.

Every moment reflects
every moment, then
wheezes past, to some
unknown destination
beyond the tracks.

Big miscalculation -
I left the oxygen tank
at home: discovered
that humans don’t breathe
so well
beneath the masonic ocean

My wisdom will not be
found here like so many
lyrics forgotten
from Dylan albums
say what you wish
my favorite is Self Portrait
but only for the instrumentals.

Paint flecked

from the ceiling

tinwhitesnowflakes

*

that February

still feels

like it didn’t

exist

my back pages

entire novels

now sparks

free

escaping the chimney

These snows of February
are like the cave-making snows
of old; when snow-giants
roamed the Earth
& the only language
we spoke  
was Glacial.

Science is
the magic
of our age.

I want
the old world
back.