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I see the homeless man standing around
A street of empty houses, locked with
Galvanized chains,  the frost sparkles
Dancing and heating   his beard.  He is happy, shaking himself uncontrollably
Moving as slow he can to make the moment last  as long as possible.  
His immortality is through the shelter
Of the dark clouds forming a hut above
His immortality.  He sees angels in the snowflakes, their  hot kisses stacking themselves into layers of white  silk.  He feels blessed and screams away his curses
In tongues hoping his god hear his prayers sending  him a golden hole in the dark sky.
Michael Parish Dec 2024
I have starred from the sand
Long enough to know
Imperfections never fix
Themselves.    Thank God!
I used to  wish plagues
On the birds for
Dropping me here
Near the river
Until the night
A woman  bathed
In the moonlite.
She leaned on my
Skin with hers
the tips of nails
Summer heat
Blushing my leaves
The pepper loons
resang again
And again.
unfinished
Michael Parish Dec 2024
The sun will drag itself as though
You feel the kid you were has
Waited and time is what a jar
Is shaped by, before edging out
In lite beneath a panel or shed
Unlatched  with smells of bags
Unfull of yellow fumes, the day
Has found the branches and cherries
unzapped by beaks.  You know it's
Safe to start a new dream.  Again the fence
Is standing triumphantly, the night has
Been a lost call, a ball is tossed again
The neihbor is waving like a friend.
Michael Parish Dec 2024
Laying in white folds and wishing
To be paid by mail.  He will see the wooden pin glued  to our white box.  
A pin that no longer snaps nor springs down to lock  its soft splintered jaws.  
It works with what it has not trying
To be what it once was when it hung
And sprung  more then  its weight of wet clothing in the yard.
Michael Parish Dec 2024
The night is beautiful
And lonly as it is
The tastes of brawny men
Awoke  her from her sleep
Cedar and lavender
Odors stirred by the air!
The fresh old dream
Already gone.
She cried:


Oh you beastly sweaty hunks my
Snow , be mine all mine!  Oh shred with rage my flimsy buttons, and rage my ******* with your wild howls!
Michael Parish Jul 2020
The dead black  quilt falls across my face.
His purr puts me down and I sleep.
Michael Parish Apr 2020
Beef is like nothing.
Chicken is Fine.
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