My Atlas does not wince
nor does he cower; he hauls
his burden, self-forgotten.
Hour by day, my unwav’ring
tower, with purpling shoulders
and crackling skin, within him
a lambent glow glimpsing through
the faults. My Titan is stout and alt;
I rest in his shadow which feasts on
fearsome things. Some simply hiss
“BEAST,” as he quakes by, but his
eyes are on the sun and his ears are
in the sky, his burden perched upon
his sturdy shoulders high.

My legs will take me through;
never mind shrubs and jagged pavement,
my legs will take me through.

Precipitation looms – my heart striking
like a pellet in a pinball machine – and
it pours. Sprouting from the sky, my
little termites splash into the soil.

My legs will take me through.

I can and I have and I will,
my pulse insists; living puddles
splatter beneath my feet, my
insuppressible stride.

Inadequacy spoke and I replied:

*My legs will take me through.

My trombone binoculars bend
right back into my head and I
can see the growth in all that
which I’ve fed – still no trees,
unappeased vines bending the
spines so that they too bow in
need. Apples san seed. No
lending from the skies.  Not a
desert but a safely stagnant
demise.

Slow chew;
swallow, you
insatiable shirk.
You love to lurk in
shadowy turns;
show your camel’s
jaw, disrespectful
teeth which hash
and gnaw. While
other mouths stiffen
and gape you can
take another chunk
from integrity’s nape;
slow chew and swallow,
you insatiable shirk.

When she shows you her teeth
it is an invitation to pry them
from the cob; arid gums, each
tooth a cork plucked, warm pops,
air settling in to make good her
promise of decay;

no good – vitality never
rustled her bed there.

thorns poke through
my palms. all belongs
to gravity but not yet my rose,
resting on my undaunted fist.
it will wither unceremoniously and
i will have only holes in my hands.