The lights in Beijing,
They are trying to imitate the stars,
Their falsehoods only ring true with the right song,
They only loose their deception in fake smiles,
And long standing words,
That have only little meaning left,
The waves in honolu,
Are trying to be the calming breath,
They only loose their depth,
When you cant believe your back at smitty's again,
When you see your last 5 spot,
And you know where it's going,
They can't calm you to sleep anymore,
The mountains in Denver are wanting to be Gods,
But they loose their glory in giant snow storms,
That make you feel like your fingers itch and numb,
Their Godhood is called into question when she won't wake up in bathroom stall,
And when you can't see the stars,
The heated wind in Phoenix,
Wants to be your warm blanket,
It just looses it's luster when you want to open your eyes to who you are,
When you can't breathe because of looks from far away people in far away minds,
And if you just need that cigarette to put the day behind you

The lights in Beijing shine true,
When the right song comes on,
And their glow is the hope that's left,

The waves in ol' Honolu breathe calm,
When you decide to go home,
And see your hopeful tomorrow,
Waves

The Mountains in Denver,
Are paying Godly attention,
When the sun comes a shining,
And remind you exactly where you are at,
The whisper,
It's exactly where you need to be

The hot windy days in Phoenix,
Show their comfort,
Dancing with dust and spinning with leaves,
The love of life always around,
And no matter where you are,
You just might be home.

For their family,

dead people are the same size –


as in their lifetime.

This morning's cigarette
I bought at the airport in Rome.
It wavers in a cold district
as I question my romances.

Dear cigarette, little acid stub
on a tile, you lived your span
in a long winding fume:
May my own life stick
to her hands like smoke.

light
it whispers in yellow commas--
a piece of waning moon
to grasp
to climb
down from heaven

shards of our abdomen
itching, writhing,
crawling upwards
up
up
like a pillar of caterpillars
piling on caterpillars
fighting to get a view
of
of
of what?

"I tell you, Sir, there's nothing there!"

an echo from an empty room
nothing
nothing
no.
only swirling colors
patternless wandering
the flesh of a lost man
the Earth
is a woMan.

i want to talk about you
to everyone i know
i want to shut my mouth
and keep you to myself
my heart flares up
explodes with thoughts of you
and i can't catch the words
and i can't catch my breath

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live.

Fine apricot cut for roofbeam
Fragrant cogongrass tie for eaves
Not know ridgepole in cloud
Go make people among rain

Fine apricot was cut for the roofbeam,
Fragrant cogongrass tied for the eaves.
I know not when the cloud from this house
Will go to make rain among the people.