Your eyes,
gleaming with sparkles,
complimenting your touch
which sends shivers
to a distant place
that I once forgotten,
now remembered
and these timeless nights
and endless days
could never be so perfect
in the thought of
never laying eyes
on a new beginning,
with such vibrant colors
I can’t silence my lips
in saying 'I love you'.

Delicately, you ******* over.
Press your fingers to the brink of the horizon
The gentle curve of the sun
Wrapped around the earth.

Oh, ever gentler.
For you might tilt the world askew, with too much force
Oh, ever gentler; I’ll help you learn
To tip toe

Delicacy, never rush such a discovery
Our glances touch, ever slightly
As we understand greater differences and
Common interests.

Back and forth, I pace.
Careful not to wake the sleeping baby.
Back and forth,
Remembering.
I pace, envisioning.
While you lie, closed eyes,
Enlightening
The dark, and
Releasing
Closed hearts.

I want a little berry, bright and red and round,
I want a little berry, to fill my ears with sound,
I want a little berry, my mind to astound,
I want a little baby, to always be around.
I want my hands to be filled with fruit,
To look in their faces, oh so cute,
To grow these sweets for my Father’s garden.

The sun is a glaring Mom. She has
Nine toddlers in pull-ups robbing a liquor store
They scream like goblins coated
slippery in A+D,
(but the money tastes like sand)
buttery streams of light in the air that smells
like chewed fireworks.

Baby Blue silence. Then

“Langston McCaw! LA County Sheriff!”
the Sheriff is dead McCaw is an accountant over at Sherman and-
But he doesn’t like to talk about it.
Sun setting sets the air habanero
“Look about it” the babies cry
Those chubby voices of rage.
Liquor quivering milky and hot
I ripped the roof and reached-
J-Dog has snatched another thief
And he will take the lil’ ***** to the
holding cell that thinks
Where he will be questioned by
ten petite police

These babies won’t bite the bakers back again!

“Si tu vois ma mere”
broken Bombay bottle sings in despair as
Giant mother tomato sun fell,
Madness doesn’t cease it goes around.

Too young, too soon.
I can count on one hand
how many times I held you,
Sleepy little thing.

Bright eyes, wide and ancient
you stared right through me
like you knew who I was
the moment we met,
Sleepy little thing.

All I ask is that you
wave to the sun for me
kiss the stars for me
say hi to the moon for me,
Sleepy little thing.

I loved you more
in those few weeks then
I ever thought possible
but you rest and I’ll
meet you in the clouds one day,
Sleepy little thing.

We know it by the
Huge blinking lights
From rides that
Tend to make people
Throw
Up
Dairy Queen.

We know it by
Those big, intricate
Winding tatoos
That snake up the arms
Of half of the attendees
That have a message
That I can't read.

We know it by
Little children
Clinging,
Terrified,
To the hands of their
Irresponsible mothers.

And we know it
By inhaling so much
Secondhand smoke
That we're almost positive
That a little lung cancer
Has invaded our privacy.

We know it by
The Herndon Festival.

And we love it.

Byron and I play
The All Topics Open.
Eighteen holes  
Invariably draws nostalgic.
Byron mentioned he went to the WWF in Detroit.
I sliced into a childhood memory
Of midgets at Cobo Hall:
Cobo Hall, Saturday Night. Be there!
Byron started pitching old wrestlers and holds:
Leaping Larry Shane, great with the Anaconda Vice;
Killer Kowalski vs. Bobo Brazil, pinned by the Crucifix and Abdominal Stretch;
**** the Bruiser tagging with The Sheik
To defeat Gorgeous George and Crybaby McCarthy.
Byron went on in detail, with tabernacle authority:
“It was a Bear Hug that quickly swung in to a Quarter,
then Half,
then Full Nelson;
Crybaby bounced off a knee,
Was driven to the mat and pinned
By a Front Sleeper.”

(Jimmy's newborn picture faded in,
and the pose he naturally struck
baby arms
cocked like a sideshow muscle man  
Daddy quipped: **** the Bruiser.
I was Leaping Larry Shane.
Daddy quipped: Larry the Stooge.
I didn't see that move)

Byron was intense. I could hear, but
I was zoning.
Crybaby and Front Sleeper dazed me.
How time Venns.

I was pinned today.
I recognized the feeling.
Tagged, then pinned by
The inescapable
Baby Nelson.
You know the hold.
On your back.
Baby on chest, face down.
Pinned.

I met a girl
With the look of the day.
Unadorned, but not plain,
No ink or glitter
On skin,
Warm-water smooth;
Therapeutic as epsom.
She'd no
Liner to draw attention.
Her eyes caught you,
Even closed.
Lips, blistered
With satiation,
Are drop dead red.
Her nails are jewelry.
No piercing couture,
Her style is what makes her;
Her clothes always fit her.
She's quiet, not shy,
The slightest disturbance
Sets her about.
My girl's a captress,
Her appearance is flawless;
Reminding us daily
Birth beauty is ageless.