There is a constant mystery
which beckons me.

We go about our time
in
clickety clakity clarity
routine
clockwork puppets
marching in time
to
bad relationships
toxic jobs
frozen states of mind
wed to routine
married to the grind.

When a mild minor
barely alive flickering
a little flame
smaller than a bic lighter
ignites
and
the straight and narrow
develops
not just a *** hole or sinkhole
but
a geyser that shoots you out.

The next moment
you're taking your clothes out of the closet
walking out of an office with the meeting waiting
getting on a plane
lining up for a train
hopping in the car
Sayonara.

Revolution is in the air
the program has changed
you sit in that rocking chair
the last piece of furniture
in
an ending chapter
and
realizing
the previous moments of life
the identity of who you once were
is
dead and gone
all that had defined you is done.

This is the mystery
which speaks to me
in
deaths and resurrection
rebirth
what begins as a decision
becomes the riding
of
a wave
crashing
thrashing
heading for the sand
heading for the light
will I be all right
praying to Jesus
wondering
where you'll emerge
as melancholy
longing
displacement
excitement too
reigns
and
the change
the revolution concludes
and
you become
a
new form of you.

Knock
Knock
Please
I am hungry
a
tired voice said.

Novices
Our love
stands on stilts
twisting weaving
struggling
to maintain balance
a strong wind
could tip us
a pulsating bass
could trip us.

Eye to eye
but yet
so
high
wobbling.

Trying to find
our footing
if we lean to close
we are bound
to
stumble and fall.

But your breath so sweet
kerosene
beneath my wooden feet
ignites
the fire
too hot to handle.
Have you ever tried
taking off
your clothes
when
eight feet high?

**** the stilts
she cried
and in
mid air embrace
rotating in ****** embrace
the stilts were gone
my legs were gone
circling each other
round and round
We fell
Calling for that
one true sound.

In simultaneous
bliss
a holler
a harkens
Link's Zelda song
a lightening storm
we screamed
for the sound
of our
exquisite joy
and
far too fast
we crashed
to the ground.

I'm dying
I said to my wife
she said you're right.
She never did editorialize.

I'm dying
I said to my children
my children said
you're funny dad
way too wild.

I'm dying
I said to my job
They smiled
Your job
we have others
we can rob.

I'm dying
I said to the redwoods
they laughed out loud
your life span is the same as a cow.

I'm dying
I said to the owl
the owl said
who not you.

I'm dying
I said to my truth
My truth said
no doubt.

I'm dying
I said to my life
my life said
you're next.

Internet
Text
Promises
of
total intimacy
and
total isolation
simultaneously.

Thousand
piece
Lego set
love lies
shattered
on the ground. ..

We gathered
At
The lighthouse at Piedras Blancas
Called by an unknowable
Incandescent
Calling.
Carpenters
Electricians
Bums
Drifters
Grifters
Women doctors
Professors
Rangers
Mothers of young children
Truck drivers
Salesmen
Rascals
And the occasional party crashers
And
Me
A poet and wanderer by trade.

We were called to the ocean
To see.
We didn't know why
We traveled from far and wide
To
The spot at the lighthouse at Piedras Blancas
North of Cambria Pines
South of San Simeon
On the California coast
To
The spot we were summoned
To
Witness the rapidly out of control growing
Of the white mass on the skin of the ocean
Consuming
Wasting
Inch by inch
Foot by foot
Mile by mile
Devouring the ocean
Cells out of control
Determined by one pure drive
The drive to survive
Which ultimately would cause
All to die.

The voice we had heard
Was mother ocean
Wailing to the
Sun and moon
And
Stars
For her offspring
She would never see again...