there are small houses
shoulder to shoulder
there are mingling tents
giving poor refuge.
there are tenements
eyeing the traffic.
and suburban havens
with garages and
televisions.
there are
adobe abodes
in barrios and
indian settlements.
there are high risers
unshaded,  barnacled
by balconies.
there are boundless
estates with
vineyards and stables.
there are balinese huts
on stilts with their
villagers.
there's life on
the road with
changing addresses.

I want to laugh
on thin ice and
hold you tight
on the terrace,
party crashing
the penthouse.
I want to fly
far-flung,
a swallow diving
heedless and headlong
Living on air,
and not sleeping
at all.
I want to
hang on to you,
riding the loop
de loop,,
tonight at
the carnival

insurgency
sedition, sedition, sedition
music
rendition, rendition, rendition
homily
perdition, perdition, perdition
debate
erudition, erudition, erudition
mathematics
solution, solution, solution
contracts
condition, condition, condition
dead now
mortician, mortician, mortician
and then again
apparition, apparition, apparition

the turn of the rail
round the land.
the curve of the
soundbox against
the hand.
the engine rumbles
somewhere, undefined,
as love disappears
tonight.
the wall lines the sea
in holland.  The velvet
folds close the stage
at the opera.
Tile on the roof
silently shedding
the rain as love
disappeared today.
Relentlessly cold is
the hearthstone.
The march of the
nightshift to
the factory
from home.
Barge tied to barge
sounding the horn,
a freight of black
coal, buries the heart
as love disappears tonight.
Dark are the waters
plied by the fishing
boats and trawlers.
The paths are
map-less
ruthlessly speaking
a language that's foreign.
At the edge of the
canyon without
finality, love
disappears, over and
over again.

the earth is not round.
It is not as flat as it
could be. Love
is waiting for
magellan's next
trip around.
Life is not profound.
It is not as meaningless
as it could be.
Life is waiting for
dylan thomas's
next trip around.
You are not lost
You are not as
apparent as
you might be.
You are waiting
to be painted with
a pearl ear ring
next time around.
The universe is
not empty.
The stars are
like us all.
Waiting
to be known.

the trees were
growing many years ago.
tall protection of
this life we know.
All the elegance
tailored in our drinks,
cool secure habits
we never really know
the possibilities
for sadness.
The lawns are
trimmed precisely
Wall vines
nearly braided.
We talk in
clear mechanics
and if this
were in oil
deep in green and beiges.
Hanging on a
white wall
horizontal, pristine,
never cheerful
never sublime.
The waiter sets
the food down.
Thinks insanity
runs in his line.
No one asks me
for a **** thing
though I never
said so
For ripples aren't
acknowledged here
the glaze on sadness
wiped clear.

Of all my hopes
the end to poverty
is one that
I would wish for.
Then on a sun-drunk
day in may
I'd buy your kiss
at a fair they
held outside
that saturday.
And then of hopes
I would wish for,
an endless oil
lamp
as you'd know
the way to use it.
For the third
and last
I'd have a wish
for time so
when you are
done with others,
you'd wish that I'd
come
through it.