the shuffling men huddle
in the lighted room
eyes glue to shoes
the miles a man treads
are the measure of his soul
and these worn feet are
men to move mountains
with bare hands

tinge the conversation
with the propaganda of innocence
priesthood of crafted reality
puts good and true men prostrate to the
graven images of a better world
when all that is accomplished is the slow decay
rotting fruit of our collective wishes
our collective hopes

a man on fire
his hand to the road
that i must travel
like a cool drop of rain in the blast furnace heat
like a woman's smile after years of being alone
like the taste of real hope
after the road has come here
this strange strange place
at the end of the world

one hundred and ten men
in this dark hall
waiting for the storm to let
waiting for the sun
waiting for a better world

one man waits
in the rain
surreal in his mind the day has evaporated
and as the shadows of night crawl into his eye
he dreams aloud that she has come home to him
that things never went astray
that we could be our happy little family again

there are echoes of christmas chimes
in the midsummer dreamscape she has
woven on our bedsheets with
her photographs and pencil sketches

there is much to be done and little time to keep
she gently sweeps away such frail notions
and with sparkling wonders
shining in her eyes she unwraps the day
with her girlish laughter's and warm joys

there are christmas chimes in the beautiful light of her eyes
i am there in her afterglows and tender kisses
im there to kiss the bells in her dreadlocks
as stillness once more settles like a ****** snow
soft and silent gently while we slept

im there in her afterglows
with english schoolboys charms
to dazzle and delight
because i live for her smile
because i live for her joys

she did a difficult dance on the street corner
but i had no time to stay and kiss the girl
my time had come and travelin was on my mind
there was a future callin on me
some bright eyed beautiful thing sparking in the sun
start off walkin but you know me
just get going and i'm runnin
ill see you someday i suppose
ill be doing a two step with some hot honey
and laughing in some parking lot three am
cause i got a future i gotta go catch
no time to stick round and kiss the girl
feel bad gotta leave her behind
but i got a destiny
and i'm movin already
some bright eyed happy thing callin me
some two step with some salacious honey
in the bed sheets
oh lord hear her callin me
goodbye my friend
got to go
got to go

the words are crisp in my mouth
but by the time they hit the door
they are stale as my hand
they are gone like wisps of smoke
their scent decorates the room
and brings a parade of memories
feasts with laughing friends
and a long footpath with her blue dress
it makes my sunshine weary
and drives clouds into my souls parklands
she is one such long misbegotten memory
she was a true love of mine
she is gone like a wisp
of smoke on a beach
she....

she makes my time pass slow
and leaves me wanting to repaint
the moons difficult changing colors
as it waxes and wanes thru the seasons
like her deep eyes
but she mends with love
and she nourishes with compassion
and she makes cut out stars and comets
that we pin to the ceiling
she makes breakfast
we eat it  laying in a open field
listening to the fall wind rustle the trees

i master this lame beast
and contrive to march it slowly through the night
while it seized and sputtered
to the edge of light
the edge of forgiveness
there i lay down
but the world has no further use for a broken old man
potions and notions antiquated
she with a woman's gentleness
gathers up what remains of me
chiding me softly for having wandered astray
knitting the pieces parts to semblance
she admits beyond mere frowns
her reasons for being here
that my words reach her
that my soul enraptures her
my humor embraces her
and unlike many others she has known
my heart hears her every word
and thirsts to know her mind

love affairs are more than in a bedroom
they are in the heart and mind
i will have my lover and know her
because everything about her matters to me

natural light falls with
such beauty through the autumn leaves
sets the heart ablaze with reminiscence and wishes
the day filled with brilliant color and life
makes my heart as carefree and light as joy itself
the crisp air with its winters foretaste
the autumn afternoon gives me wanderlust
my thoughts beautiful with your presence on my mind
if i could only live my life within these moments
so my heart dances with warm visions
of our precious time together

i was sleeping sweetly
till i heard strange sound
trumpets of some deadly thing approaching
a november cold wind in her eye
she walked a shadowy figurine on storm wracked road
as she walked slow and deliberate dressed all in black
she held a dozen bones of a bird that flew
she held a dozen bones of a man that ran
none escape her hand
not in noonday sun
or riding by the fog bound moon in the night
you can find her stirring pestilence on cookfire
along the river road
with the mother of all decay for company
she asked me in a frail voice
what is it that you see...what darkness binds me
i said all manner of beast crawls your pale skin
all manner of shadow calls your heart home
i said you are a walking open grave
she smiled and brushed cold finger on my lip
promise of a deep kiss
that made my very soul shudder
that made me howl in heart deep terrors
fled that dark dream with its tastes of death
fled here to noon day sun
long as i keep the sun overhead
maybe ill see her comin and run

bold words are lettered in
handwritten phrases
on her wall
in blood red paint
tales of great conquest
tales of greater defeat
all woven with the same spanish thread
from a small villa north of madrid

he bears with him a golden box
in the secret pocket of his long coat
within are all the treasures
that could dazzle a young fair madiens eye
all the riches that could bend the back
of any petty flesh or metal merchant

with a careful flare and practiced theatrics
he pulls it forth to the awe of the gathering crowd
his trade-craft is the peddling of dark dreams
in a sleepless land
of giving just enough to tease into wishing
but never quite enough to persuade

as he himself was
all his work is woven from the same spanish thread
from a small villa north of madrid
woven to speak to the heart
with the rich deep earthen tones
found in spains muddy soil
woven to speak to the soul
with the heady lust of a spanish romance

the words on her wall
speak of her years with her one true love
and of their deep passions
and of how he had rode off to war
telling her he would soon return
and her long years waiting
watching the forever empty road
wearing her favorite dress
woven from  spanish thread
from a small villa north of madrid

knowledge awaits is the ticket
they sell you as you pass through
the pearly gates of higher learning
with textbook in hand you pray
that the dream you have isn't as much of
a work of fiction as the history they teach
with your college bound girl
her vanity lay in her turtle frame glasses
she hides behind the foggy lenses of her
casual drugs and meaningful ****** episodes
she grasps the back of your letterman jacket
hoping that you are as surefooted as your propaganda speaks
as you follow the blinding path
of confusions principal and you think to yourself repeatedly
that the truth in the simplest explanation is the actually the most complex
because you make it that with
realizations and rationalizations
through the day to day whittling away
of what you really are
through lying to yourself that
if you stick it out with this false life
one more day it will all be better
that the relationship you are trapped in
will work with you
instead of making every day
an uphill battle to be heard
and loved without tears
sometimes look into her eyes and
see the endless road of escaping her past
and i think that i just want to stop running away
settle down
and be
just simply be
a father, a husband, a lover
happy

the quiet engine of passing time
produces gremlins in the shadows of morning
they steal the warmth from his cup of coffee
they place landmines on his daily road to perdition
'this is what madness must be like'
he said to himself as the dawn seeped into the room
one tear stained ray of sunshine at a time
because each added moment lighted reveals
more of her damaged face
more of her impossible eyes

her words hurt his ears as she bleeds his strength
she is a peddler of perils
whats your fantasy she cries out
tied to the railroad tracks like a maiden
or walking the long mile with the skeleton key in hand
the key opens all enduring keepsakes
and releases them to crawling thieves
you cannot retain your world for more than
a flickering moment
so you loose faith that it can ever be done
i miss her
and i miss my daughter
but she is a peddler of perils
and she now comes grinning and fast *******

my head full of noise
so my thoughts gather round
like they are at the Battle Of The Alamo
to the necessity of self preservation
and the warm comforting blanket of self interest
manufacture reasons to do what the ***** dictate
but its her goal to see such endeavor
fold under the weight
of her guilt trip

back in the echo box
she quietly shouts into
the acoustic confusion
madly laughing and the ensuing army
of echoes marching in lockstep to her mad mad laugh
of her mad mad laugh
of her mad mad laugh

we spend the day between the
sheets wrestling each others sweaty forms

i miss her

safe in the fortress of my heart
i looked out on the mysteries of my world
reveled in the complex dance of lovers united in
burning desires and passionate loves
and then i heard a distant swansong
heard a distant love affair promised behind
such lovely phrases and alluring photographs
but as the truth of it resolved itself in minds eye
i could see it failing in the crisp moonlight
i could see its painful ending that
is as sure as a rising sun
that it would leave me
in a dire thirst
a depleted soul

please pull me away from this swansong
this enticing tale
for its sweetness clings to me
its promised loveliness and beauty
are only facade for such a dark and lonely place
i will end up believing such a tale
i will fall victim to such a beautiful thought
and the swansong will be spread to yet another
lover torn from the worlds complex dance
of true beauty and love

safe in the fortress of my heart
this dire tale sweeps up against me
trying to wear me down
i call out that others should be aware
i cry out that others should see
this swansong so pretty and beguiling
is such a dark thing
i will hold out for the dawn
i will stay true to my love
and there i will breath easy a summer's day
in there i will find loves true tale
loves complex dance of passion and desire
i will once again dance happy and free
with all the other lovers wrapped in
the warmth of our passions

i just want to tell you
because your all i ever wanted...
all our night on the dancefloor
under the lights so magical....
all our beaches in moonlight romantic
embrace so enticing.....
i just want you to know
how much every moment with you
has meant to me....
every walking hand in hand
in sweet summer sunshine so warm....
every moment we whispered **** things
to each other and how it makes you blush and giggle
so wonderful....
just want you to hear
how special you are to me
how deep our love truly is.....
every day i find new love for you
find the beauty between us
so forever sunshine in my heart.....
every kiss shared softly
lips caress with a loving soul song
so much of what my heart has longed for
all my life.....
just needed you to hear
i love you
forever magical love together

she lightfoots it out the backdoor
and heads for the nearest highway
says there wasn't enough romance in my last words
so shes gonna jump ship
and go find another place to sink into despair
she loves to be in love
and needs to wear it all the time
like a remnant of her yesteryear round her wrist
so all the other girls can hover and be jealous
i stand there looking at her saying all this
and i admire her and her big hat
gotta admit don't know where i'm headed either
but i'm trying to make sense of the
things written on the roundhouse wall
cause there isn't any truth greater
than the truth of innocence
its got nothing to prove
and it holds no grudges
and the truth is that i love her
so i grab her hand
and together we ran away from
the desperation of the ignorant
and the cruelty of the small hearted
the stars may fall
but if you catch em in your delicate hands
i can paste em in the scrapbook
and we can have them forever
to remember these days
paste em on the walls so
we can smile at them while making love
and that's enough for me
why aint it enough for you
she smiles and makes a house out of lace doilies
its gonna be our home sweet dream
but the gambler and the rose faced mother-in-law
fall all over themselves to stop us from leaving
cause they need someone to blame
too proud to admit they lost their humanity long ago
they will fade into shells of shadows
and get lost in a strong western breeze
a voice says to me that there's no time to loose
and i break open the day
and stare in stark wonder at all the lives
i could have lived had i not come this way
or followed this road on the way to see her
new clothes and her new dog
with its sparkling new leash
captured him to keep her company
its a tragic story to be sure and it shows in his face
its written in big easy to read letters on the side
of our now empty home
she left with her dog and a snake salesman
leaving me here side of the strange road with a naked dready honey
and a pocket full of apologies
but they aren't worth the paper they were never written on
the air they breath in my pocket is slowly leaving them
no choice but to escape back to the mouth that spoke them
and the uncomfortable lips that spawned them
the dready honey takes me by the hand
kisses away the shadows on my heart
and builds a house out of tye-dye scraps and lace doilies
now i sit in the warm breeze with sand 'tween my toes
and relish the daylight

with a watchers patience
he unfolded the chair
rusted to the doorstep
with fine grains of red
like a thousand fingers
wander till the cold dawn breaks
searching for my souls ease

your life is the slamming
of typewriter keys
to paint with crafted words the world you would dream
the world she would love you in
your life is the desperate holding at bay the hours evaporating
into a future you cannot
comprehend
but fret over

like the wringing of sweaty hands
pacing the hall
small bald fat men
with neatly pressed brooks brothers suits
but fret over like the well greased
plans and carefully laid desings
of another mans futures past misgivings

i fought with all i had
i gave all my heart and soul
till my very bones ached
fought till i could bear no more
till i fell
in the first breakers of dawn
in the first shallow fingers of dawn

ashes fell like snow
drifting down aimlessly
silently one landed in her hair
but her eyes were fixed on the fire
a great rushing crackling tortured sound
as the building burned
we could only stand and watch
can still feel its heat on my face

years pass
with the seasons laying a great drift
of leaves and tangle of vines on the ruins
sticking up out of the rough sea of dead debris
the twisted remains of a child's school desk
the frame of it jutting out of the snow
melting in the spring breeze
a muted shout of metal

the jungle gym overtaken by weeds
and the swings just a rusted frame
i clamber up the top to see the vista
but only gain another perplexing view of ashen earth

we walk down the broken path
to the small house
its broken window a haven for a thrush
and nestled in its brick doorway
a rusty clowns head
battered and leaning over
the grin lost in reddish decay

we sit in the room we love
in the small broken house
really no more than a child's playhouse
while the summer air gathers in close to us
thick and filled with heavy summer scents
the sun piercing the room like a hot razorblade

she wont look at me
only sits mumbling a song unrecognized
till the words slip clear of old nursery rhyme
i fear for her fragile sanity's
she unbuttons her shirt
sweat pours from her like spring rain
she finally looks at me
and with a vacant diabolical tone
tells me she wants to hurt me in ways
no-one else can
unhinged

as dusk litters the field
we come to stand where we stood that night
come to relive once more our thoughts
and words
as we watched it burn
symbolically i place a small grey paper in her hair
for the ashes that fell like tears
symbolically she raises a single forlorn cry
asking that i save someone
but there is no one to be saved
we are a lifetime too late
symbolically we weep

the twisted iron
in the rubble rebuffs our desire for comfort
the leaden sky
denies our desire to close this terrible thing
leave it behind

as nights restless hand pushes us
back to the small house
she takes my hand
silently forgiving us both
for having only been children
when our world burned to the ground

his baby blue buick
and ten gallon cowboy hat
made him the lonesome rodeo star
of Nantucket beach
but it was when he would sit by
the Charles River and play his banjo
for all the kind folk walking in the
summer sunshine hand in hand
walking neath the sycamores
and laughin sweet and free
that boy really shone true and beautiful
his played that banjo like it was part of his soul
it played him like it was alive
together they made such a lonesome sweet sound
that'd chill the hardest heart
he would sing till the summer moon had run its
trail chased by the stars in innocent game
he sang of the girl who had stole his heart
gone to Vegas or some such to be a showgirl
and live the bright lights and cheers
he sang of his mamma who cried for her wayward boy
he sang for the pretty girls
sunning themselves there by the banks of the Charles River
sweet sweet songs carefree and lovin
as he should be
he's there still
if you listen real close to that gentle stirring sound
of the trees in summer breeze
you can hear him sing you a sweet song
just to see you smile

its winter  
its night in the minds eye
you saw me
you did not speak
you didn't reach out to me
as i passed slowly by
carrying my hearts apocalypse
bleeding from the bitter mote
of that one moment memory
of that point which contact was lost
of that tender touch that remains the last i shall ever have
lean on the steady
but the weight sweeps you off
your newborn feet

the all seeing eye
is really blind
nobody seems to care tho
they all carry on as though knowledge is known
and peace is unattainable

his Buick breaks down on a
far distant backroad
benith a billboard
advertising the end of the road
for all thouse foolish enough to believe
that redemption can be purchased
with a few slick words in the right ear
no confessional tickets
to the great beyond are accepted
in this king james version

there may be a gap
in the knowing
but there's no hole in my heart
there's nothing but love here
for thouse iv shared my road or bed with
for thouse who had a better seeing
of who I am and who I am becoming
in my everyday adventure

i was never really here with you
it was just a vision
of my slowly walking by
carrying the apocalypse of my heart
i was never your intended
never your groom of your forbidden desperation
never meant to be betrothed to your wicked game
i am miles and century's distant
and following the folly or fortune
of my own making

she lay in darkness
listening to some sad song
some careless young heart with a version
of some sweet old melody
she lay wrapped in my arms
lay wrapped in her wandering thoughts
i bring her herbal teas and a ashtray
but the grey ash already litters our perfect world
like stains of regret on a untainted heart

she leaves the towel on the tiles
along with her delicate footprints
leading to the window where she lingered
brushing her long straight burgundy hair
brushed a hundred times carefully
a hundred moments drinking her with my eyes
but to her she was
alone in the mirror of her eyes
alone in the rain of her dream

she made eggs and toast
left it neatly adorned on the
table overlooking tomorrow
picture perfections of lives she promises
one day we will someday live
when shes no longer afraid of her yesterdays
one day when her voice will no longer echo
all the fears and sadness
one day when the delicate footprints
lead to sunshine
instead of further into the darkness
into the brilliant sadness of night

she carved a driftwood boat
and set to sail upon the still waters
of her dreams
set into its lovingly crafted world
was a neat photograph of her alone in the rain
with footprints beating a trail back to my safer bathroom
but i'm not home anymore
i'm no-ones home anymore
i'm just a figurine gathering dust
an echo of her dreams

she will wake
to find me gone
she will just lay in silk sheets
and dream away the yesterdays
to the sounds of some careless young hearts song
set to a timeless melody
like a stolen kiss forgotten
like a smile unanswered
soft and filled with tears
wishing
wishing

spanish rose lingers in the corner
with some french sailor who is
just a breathing caricature
illustrated in ink and animated by alcohol
his four letter word vocabulary with deluxe cardboard delivery
but its his eyes that capture you
swimming in hundred proof they are
wise with miles of years
and wicked in a smoky dark room way
but she is too busy to notice
flirting with the stranger across the room
a traveling salesman with boxes
of rusty trinkets for crafty sale

meanwhile old jack is swinging on the gibbet
talking away the hours with his old flame and friends
he is a threadbare imitation of me
and that suits you fine
long as its three meals and a slice of pie
the essentials of easy living wrapped up in a lace hanky
its a little ***** and on the down low
but the whole digging in some
rich kids ***** laundry for loose change
never appealed to you all that much
so attached to old jack come to make your stand
both barrels smoking hot and ready to let loose
should any fool step to the line

we all watched with amusements
as the magician open his show with a shock and awe
that sputtered and fell
but we all loved his punch lines so much that we
cheered him on all night
the chorus girls got us all up and dancing little past three
and the suave singer had us cheek to cheek by dawn
it was another night to remember to be sure
memorable as stumpy swimming with the gators
we all shuffle barefoot in the sand
to our dusty beds
and dream sweetly of fiveash romance novella endings
and the beauties of dawn
we will be up to no good once more
all loud and proud
young and full'a *****
as a spring moon crests over seaside town

we lay in the sand
on the beach we call our home
with out rock crab dinner
fresh coconuts and berry's
our home has all we desire
including each other
entwined in her tender embrace
i find both the warmth of her gentle heart
and the heat of her sensual passions
we explore each other with tentative caress
but the fires our our bodies soon ignite us
and we become the deep kiss of ******* and release
the hot and swift grasping and sighing
sweating and panting flesh

far into the night
we tickle and play
laugh and whisper

she rises to dance in her bedroom
for me

because her body loves to move
ballroom or hip-hop
her every motion is fire to me
and i pull her to the sand
and take her again and again

we slip into sleep
as i awaken from this sweet dream
not far from the beach
we laid on in my vision of your beauty

lover

i dreamt of the carnivals caravan
dreamt of the wild rose who dwelt there
enchanter of strange spells under
the quick moon flying in clouds high up
beyond fingertips reach
enchanter of rich tapestry within moonlight
of compassion's gentlest light
her sweet smiles embraces all

the caravan laid up roadside for the night
and she spread out her blanket
with her hoops she would spin the stars upon
with her hoops she would spin her magic and song
she picked a bead from her woven hair
and set it like a jewel in the center of my world
and with gentlest grin
did ask if i wished to be lost or found
knowing not which to be i let her choose
and wrapping the hoops round her
she spun the song of seasons feast
she wove the tale from fabric of starlight and roses

in the morning light
i awoke to the last carriage of the caravan
cresting distant hill like a the last piece of dream fading
i had been set loose like a strange ship on a strange sea
to find my destiny in the wild western lands
where a dark dusky angel would
take me into her song
where i would find a ship to set sail
for the lost edens tale

the happier rabbit drenched in sweat
the language of his contorted face pulls at me
something approaching repentance in his fuzzy eyes
but trickster he plagiarizes puppy dog eyes to ****** his way free

the happier rabbit is a ***** of the profane tongue
and like a smooth jesus walking on the waters of verbal jive
he just walks your wallet like he's walking the dog
he's got nothing but fur but might as
well be wearing a brooks brothers three piece
and living bankers hours

the happier rabbit
making fast tracks for the dark woods
with the equivalent of a rolls royce and a roll 'o' dimes
living is easy in the forever summertime state
long as you got the endless supply of sheep
looking for greener pastures comin south for the winter
the happier rabbit lounges by the pool catchin a tan
sipping a long island ice tea
there may be something seriously wrong with us
but we are happy just the same

i dreamt that this ocean of words
that need to be spoken
had me committing folly's
and had me believing that in this all futures lay
like a simple song would suffice

a thousand years it seems
iv walked this road
to stand here looking down on this rain puddle
to look down and see the wheels that each raindrop spins
a thousands years since i drank a sip of its cool waters
since i took your hand looked into the deep waters of your heart
and knew your loves

we lay up in an old schoolhouse
while the summer storm passed
the broken benches and cracked glass
like the lessons taught there
flawed by the reality they had been learned with
so before night could strand us there
we walked on in the rain
lest like thouse old schoolbooks we could be
closed by flawed versions of our history's

by midnight we had reached fiveashes bridge
and you asked if we could stop to dance while the old man
spun us a tune on his old guitar
so i lead you in a waltz by starlight
like a raindrop i created a wheel for us to turn
and for a memory's moment we spun there
on the worlds edge
like lovers should
like two rain drops dancing on a summer puddle

all these words
like worlds that i could explore
but i tell you simple and true
that i would give them all up to have you here
have your hand in mine
so we could dance to that simple song
once more
like two raindrops in a puddle
seeking to be one
under a summer sun

memory
and the city lights fading behind me
the wheels turning in the night
the tears called upon to save you have decayed
faded into the cake of makeup
stretched on your parody smile
put a candle on that babe and celebrate another year

twenty miles outa town
stopped my buick
'neith the highway sing
and in the cool desert moon
made love to another woman
just to have another falling star to chase
shes a little cracked but she can smile
yes she can
and that's a ray of pure sunshine to this broken heart
that's a glass of gladness in the chambers of sour

i owe a thousand apologies
but none of them east of the mississippi
so i head to sunny florida
spend all my time in the rain
writing letters home to the mountains of the moon
serenity is just another girl after all
isnt that what she would say
a fun pile of hot packed in skintight jeans
but just a girl

tried to find a narrow path in the thorns
attempted to get round the snags
but milkmaids and **** kings
are all too sure that id fail someday
and they wait with bated breath for me to be
on my knees
but im making a new lifetime outa the dust
im carving a new hope outa the curses laid on me
ill make it because im resolved like iron ink
but im rusting like rainwater
and there is nobody i can hope not to offend

i had thought to find your hand to hold
and standing here in the rain
wish itd work its way out
im so weary of the futile chase
but you left on a train headed north to go find my enemies
to deal out some measure of justice

im resolved like iron ink
rusting in the american sun
nobody's treasure
born to wait
come home someday

her delicate finger
creates the empire of obscene in her teacup
others look on with growing alarm
it spreads slowly onto the lace tablecloth
she sat in the crowded room
and with desperate chewing on lips
announced that with her silence
she had condemned all to live without her
i reached out and found her smile
but its cardboard folded under the weight
of a hundred conversations that all took place
in the first moments our eyes touched
inadequate to the feral beast
her pristine face in the candlelight
fragile as bone china
and just as sharp when its broken fragments
lodge in the mind
seeping into the eye
she took me in her arms
slow dance in unison
with the grease lights flickering
and the hot tacky feel of cake
the stages floor creaks ever so softly
beneath her delicate foot
precursor
her finger traces the lines of all the futures
all the things we should be
and all the things we left behind
the stain grows
it is a madness in her mind
it consumes her
her sharp fragments
are scattered all over the dark corners of my life
her delicate finger
creates the empire of obscene in her teacup
and i hungrily drink of its poisoned soup
thirsting for its sharp teeth
and its dark *****
her delicate fingers
are writing my doom

in a setting sun
reflected with imperfections on the lake
she waits under the summer tree
its lively conversation with the wind
stirs shadows and returns lost memories to her
like wayward children asking for bread and a sip

her fathers stern voice on a cold night
her first kiss by moonlight at bible camp
her cat's purr
these things come back to her in a rush
but the stillness of her face undisturbed
her's is a setting sun
reflected by the lake with imperfections

night is a sour brother to day and sits heckling
her from the window
that she should endure the hour alone
that her time fallow ground
the seeds scattered without care
but her hand scatters to her sleeping poet
and rests reassured on his feverish brow

she draws his form in fine lines and shadows
a black and white reflection of imperfection sleeping
she lingers with her smile
and by moonrise she is curled up in his arms
both dreaming reflections of the days reality's
but dreams are imperfect messengers of meaning
and hers is stuttering images of yesterday

in a rising sun
perfectly perceived
her bare skin wakes him
with anticipations of lustful hungers
he sees only her perfections
sees only the bright beauty of her body and soul
that is his imperfection
we are all slaves to our sunset's
we are all hopeful children of our dawn's
they are both imperfect
but together they are perfectly imperfect

apostle of balloons
chases its playful shadow
across the neatly trimmed lawn
revelling in its quick foot
and then stops short of the
pavement
as the balloons laughter heads for the distant sky
apostle of balloon
sits there on the curb
waiting for its joy to return
his eager eye scans
the ever distant sky
but that shadow now lay
entangled in treetop miles distant
trapped by the nature of the world
ever a child's dream
we await the next balloon to entice us upwards
on onwards
chasing dreams
of laughing joys

there in your midnight afterlight
there in the stillness of your nearness
you softly took my hand and shook loose yesterdays dream
you found me in every way left me without a word to say
timeless in your rose printed dress endlessly you kissed me
gently take me back where you discovered me
there leave me without all these tears of loosing you
there in your midnight afterlight
in the stillness of your nearness
without all this beautiful sadness

fresh tracks into the distance
well past midnight
the streetlight afterimage reflected in pools of
unblemished rainwater
stirs with slow echoes of the night
stirs with the slow echoes of the summer

keepsakes she quickly squirrels away
in the tiny pocket sewn into
her deep blue dress
the tiny pocket where she has a
lock of his hair
a picture of the ship he sailed off to sea on
a note he left her telling her
that he would dream of her

now the keepsakes she puts away
are twigs from a tree
a peice of plastic from a beach
bits of things that her wandering mind
grasped upon with a smiling fancy
on a stormy night September 1932
his ship was lost with all hands

all these years she waits
all these years she keeps vigil by the shore
gathering strands of the world
driftwood of lives cast off like her own
set adrift without particular place to be
and she has been lost
in mind and body
waiting for him to return

fresh tracks into the night
well past midnight
the streetlights image reflected
changes slowly
to show a figure walking carefully up the lane
his steps trying to remember
where they had been once before

was he returning
was he just a shadow or dream
she held her breath in delight and in trepidation

in the first light of day
her empty home lay quiet

her bare feet touch the cool surface
of the kitchen linoleum floor
soft sticky sound
a pattern set upon itself
with her one wrist wrapped gently round
the hard coarse thin metal
engaging its tension with a tender grasp
bending it
to the form she dreamed

carnival horse and wire wood fence
separate her from the thing she hears
she watches it with her minds eye
as she leans nervous into the encircling frame
leans with one bare foot in the dusty gravel
the broken weeds a thin line in the rocky soil
mirror her stance darkly
in miniature echoes of the intense soft lines
of her delicate face
her sorrow etched clearly in the unnatural sunlight

her voice echoes soft and trembling
a voice ethereal but rich with meanings
that she endures but
that she is alone in the false dawn
so to save herself she has bent the
convex of the lens
bent the pattern into her figure alone
and as she wraps herself in the thin metal
gauze of shallow breathing
she seeks to behold not be beheld
to mask her feelings
to leave the thoughts treading shallow waters
to leave the intense moment
in the open ocean of the linoleum
where her footprint leads to my gasping eyes
the swirls of sand with slight breeze
mask her passing
and leave little trace of her presence

but her presence remains
in this image
powerful and sublime
full of the imagery dark musics
filled with the scents of burning
this sharp clean image narrowed focus
like a shutters thick sound
in the silence of a lone fan's endless drone
which reveals a thick sadness
in the shadow slivers in her hair
in the soft line of her lips
in the casual line of her arm draped over the hoop
i sense her assuage her hot tears in the starlight
in the backwoods of a small town
from the edge of wooden bridge
her sounds echo in the kitchen
with soft edges to their thought

the archway door
its hard bricks lean into the wind strewn alley
into the the narrow gaps
between the perception of
what is and what she creates
with crafted line
with slow depth exploration
the wire wood fence hides all matter of beasts
their rabid shadows are narrowly seen underneath its edge
but their faces are only in my perception
are only in my vision of the images edge