we gather reeds in the pale beginning
our roof in thatched symmetry
place a foot firmly in the marsh
and cast a hooded gaze eastward toward the breaking light
cloud systems shift above our lithe and tenacious errand

we will tread on padded earth hedged by the green and supple hills
and the heat slumbering in the stony paths will awaken late
simmering, breakfast can be heard on the approach

i'm gonna be dumb now
i'm tiring of trying to be a talker
a knower; taking in and comprehending
i want freedom to just be
to stare nowhere and not have anyone ask
"what's on your mind"
because they know well that nothing is on my mind,
and if, only something banal, illiterate, obtuse at best
i don't want to look around wondering,
feeling out the air between us like a puzzle
like an hourglass
i want to wear a permanent glassy stare of contented confusion
and say nothing about it
i want to coax the crawling rivulets until they flow
not be at the mercy of the inescapable moment
the insatiable ego

like a dog
like a bird;
nobody thinks less of them that they don't look you in the eyes
nobody thinks less of them that they won't sit still
that they eat weird things
that they make noise for reasons unknown to us

dumb dumb dummy

that's the way for me.

i didn't ask you what the song was
but i looked up the words later and listened some more

i don't hope you will read it
i don't practice what to say
wring my mind into forgetful water

and so on
i have been listening
to you hovering
about the general presence
and i was glad you did
i saw you in the future now
there was love for you

but not mine
i have adjusted
you have adjusted
and here we are
and i'm fine with that
you helped me to be

i'll still love you a little
from a safe distance
lie awake at night knowing that
i didn't ask you what the song was
but i looked up the words later and listened some more

upstairs is warm

j says "you don't have to shake my hand"

c says "ok"

j says "unless you just want to"

c says "it's a good american tradition"

they shake hands; the Christian, the atheist

downstairs the band plays

the microphone squealing, the beer drinking, the cigarette smoking

the snow whipping around the old machine shop

now carries shapes of revelry

in a town of blizzard-faced young people

in skinny jeans, hiking boots

the wind sails on above, and still, far below
i reel in the pettiness of this creaturehood

i will pry, in disregard of my flesh
toward the lightness that is breathing

i will taste of the water that is thirst
to possess the form of unspoken rumor

you were young and so reluctant
i was shaking in my boots
time to see what its all about
down by the waters where we make roots

the cold air i can't remember
but the warmth i can't forget
connecting constellations
they tell us how they met

so just feel my lips under the starlight
taste of your peppermint tongue
like the angels we will live forever
so dumb so dumb so dumb

feel my shape against your shadows
my heart for you it runs
made for youth and made for madness
so come so come so come

i have only this body
this blood and water
with which to write a final letter
my farewell
my freedom
my memory
nothing more can i offer
as sight fades
i do not look
i do not try
only my outstretched hand
should you reach out your hand to take it Love,
                                                               take also my lips sweetly against yours-

and under the newest stars, the dusk will have us
as we never were;
as we always were-
but with only branches enough for this brief burning;
holding everything
holding nothing
curse into my mouth your dying song
and let the scent of our forgetting linger forever
its color bleeding on the strands of tomorrow to be woven

when i awake alone in wrinkled sheets my hands will search and find
only the cool underside of my pillow
                                                          ­              our lips will part as if together still
our tongues only whisper to the pale morning air
longing to savour again the hum of bodies meeting in time
the warmth that has forsaken us

as a smoke we escape the world of seeing
becoming timeless
invisible
eternal