Ahead of
     this present
moment is a
void, no
        name, no
detail
beyond what
our
imaginations
    can impose, its
    bedrock not
made
of stone but
       sand, if it
were a
wood we would
           warn
children to
   avoid it, yet we
follow its fire, it's
        flames reaching
higher
     & higher,
        seducing us with
their power,
       all the things
that might be,
         glittering
then
  disappearing

I'm a United States citizen,
Fifth generation,
And I might be sent back to Mexico.
  Because in the here of the now
  The people stand at the crest
  Of the paper moon,
  Its almost eclipsed
  Because Obama was
  Never more than words.
So we look for anything,
We are thirsting for something,
And the Trump card falls
Into place, he's full of ****,
But he's full of **** in
Full public.
See we know the establiment
Needs to be dis- established
Because they sing like mockingbirds
To another mockingbird,
And Hillary the woman
Is still a politician:
    Oh the patriot,
    ****** fool.
    He still believes
    In America!
    And why cry the democracy?
    Why poetise the political?
And the patriot said-
          Because I am what I am,
          For love of country,
          Freedom of my freedom,
          I am the people,
          We are the voice,
          And America once had a dream.

After dropping her child at school
the day was a dream only hers
when she could make her own rule
follow it for all those hours.

She would sit on some house terrace
see the busy steps passing by
trying to gauge from their pace
the errands written in their eyes.

She would watch the life of birds
amused how they labored for a nest
and when falling day drew homeward
folded sunned wings into rest.

Spread her eyes beyond the concrete
above the trees far into the haze
where young kites were taught flying feat
by mothers circling the summer blaze.

Everyday all things were renewed
seasons rolled a movie before her
all that even though already viewed
was never bereft of a sense of wonder.

How her hours flew was not known
days turned to years as a rule
her child in no time was grown
no more she needed to go to school.

I planted a garden,
Like the ones I used
To run over in my youth,
I figured at this age
That i liked plants.
It took some time
To put it out there,
The fact that I like plants.
I wondered why it
Took me so long to
Realize such a giving
Hobby.
And the garden
I ran across with no
Thought was my Mother's.
How she was toiling
And watching so small,
Her smile stilled in my thoughts.
Her hands full of maternal
Earth, and a hug that
I seem to remember in
Slow motion.
I'm older now,
Enough to know she planted
Those seeds so many years ago.

Come, my love
let us speak now
the language
of skin

imprint
your lexicon
in my every hollow

stroke that soft spot
above my hipbone
you love so well

linger there
like we have
forever

mold my body
to fit yours
wrap me in sleep

precious few
hours remain
imagine to never
touch again.

This brilliant morning
anything is possible

we are limited only
by rigid minds
whose fragile confines

can be vaporized
by choice alone.

Barbecue is blowing in the breeze , the city of Jackson is "rolling up the streets " ..The old soldier guards the city square , thoughts turn to Saturday night , stripers at the lake and the devil-may-care ..
Shady southern avenues and picnics at Indian Springs , lazy Sunday afternoons and playful children on dead end streets* ...

You demand that we stop waving our arms about
While talking or whenever I do the 3-legged downward dog
That reminds you of being abused in another life
I know you recognize the delivery man as the abuser
Who you bark at fiercely, relentlessly
Just as you always growl jealously at Hazel, our neighbor's dog,
Despite her best efforts to be your friend
I see the wolf in your eyes when you're stalking lizards
Running, unleashed, leaping impressively from a standstill
Unsupervised in what substitutes poorly for wilder places
In our Florida backyard
You stare accusingly whenever I talk on the phone
Demanding to be heard, too
You hear and smell things I cannot imagine
Long before they reach my ordinary ears and nose
I see you cannot stop digging that hole
Next to the patio in my wild grasses garden
You eat the finest organic dog food
But prefer something dead on the path
During your afternoon jog to the beach
With Bill, so dismayed, that you enjoy smelly rolling
Though you endure your punishment, a scrubbing in the shower
Just to cuddle with Bill on the couch all clean and loved
I command you to COME HERE when doing yardwork
Ignoring me, you trot off towards Federal Highway
Or slip through the hedge when I’m weeding-you're a wily one
Hoping for wolf adventures like the ones in your dreams
Those that turn scary, maybe you get pounced on
When you're making terrifying yelping sounds
And trembling uncontrollably
Waking us all up, leaping up on the bed
Scooching to a safe haven between us
Beseeching, "Hold me, squeeze me, say it's OK for me to be here!"
Hugging you Bill says, "It's OK, there there, he's a good doggie."