Suitably respectful, and
never asking for trouble
or the time of day
I wait at home-station
like a cattle dog
My master, absent in the midst of a promise

My bones wait for flesh
My theatre
for Godot

As factories burn
As droughts become floods
As Apollo is a god sending chariots to the moon

I’m ten years beyond birth already counting ways
to escape the infirmary

The hallway mirror
holds an apparition of silence
And over my shoulder
Is reflected a leafless tree
of seeming indifference

There may be leaves one day
but who can say

I wait
like Didi
for what I mean

Her eyes fuzz like moons  .  .  .
A language seeping through cloud,
  .  .  .  Whispers in the dark.

Near death stories
Are not death tales.
The widow's daughter,
In Nairn, to whom
Did she speak?
In Bethany,
Near Galilee,
Where Lazarus
Learned to talk,
Who asked him
On his walk,
With his dog on a
Sunday afternoon?
Jarius' daughter
Would like to offer
A quote and goat
At the altar
Of atonement.
She was never asked,
So she never spoke.
The scribes never scribbled
To answer the riddle;
They never went to press
With the Extra Big Scoop
On life after death
From the three
Who knew best.
Never recorded for all time.
Never a word from their minds.
Would they tell of a
Long lit tunnel
Lined with familiars
Slapping their astral *****
As they ran the gamut
Into eternity.
Nearing the Eternal Throne,
They hear:
     It's not your time.
     Go back for more.
     Keep the secrets,
     Believe in Him,
     For he won't
     Live to be thirty-four.

And so it's not written,
Let it be so.

I know he's a star
a fantasy
but I won't give up
I want him to love me
I'm good enough
I just need the chance
my sparkling personality
and a little romance
Now I'm no stalker
just love from afar
that wasn't me
tailing his car
I know it's not real
but I don't care
nothing else in my life is working
I'm not the least bit scared
I'll live in my dreamworld
I'm safe and cozy there
and dream of his blue eyes
and long silky blond hair