Over me, the waxen sky can be called “aloof”
An up-high shelf throwing air like a clear bell
Under that, the frozen breeze, a foggy denseness
Exuberance.
I wonder at the opposition, between the two elements
Vernal blue widened by cloudlessness, attained caprice
A craft chiaroscuro-the blueness and the frost
The damp dryness, on my shoulders rests heavy
My clothes melding to the comfort-
My pant legs in rigid flapping-
Down here cold and loquacious, up there bold and still
Together-serene, a form-flitting audacity

I smell the marsh froth.
Cindery campfires saw off at woodheaps.
The scent struck off into April.
I wear my soles like black parades
Slipshod over the mind, and farscape
Reproachful.  Reproachless.
In awe of the covered expanse.
It is hard to believe how cold, or how joyous
Is the thin shuddering warp
Which is coerced, without taste
In the depraved, saddened nutshell.

I can say flarkle
I can say spleet
I can even embarkle
On magonical deets

Don’t know what I’m on?
Can’t tell what I’ve said?
Haven’t you heard?
It’s only a word

And I can be whoompus
Only when I wumple!
Or else when I foompus
With a bodkin’s kerflumple

Have the senses all gone
From inside of your head?
Don’t be absurd,
It’s only a word

I can say them where I please-
I can say them to your mother
Who gives for right or fair
When behavior’s but a bother?

Are we all done
With defining instead
Of crowding in herds
Of only words?

The surgeon lives
With razor eyes
He’ll slice you down
To laughing size

The surgeon knows
The way to hell
He knows the way
As fortunes tell

The surgeon’s name
Is Holy Human
Hell as holy
As human can

In souls and bodies
The surgeon flies
Infecting minds
With pride and lies

Suffice to say
The surgeon’s host
Benefits least
When he does most

You spare what’s known
Of the red-eye wrath-
The human intolerance
The surgeon hath

Dear Jimmy
How are you?
How is Jenny?
Any news?
Quiet here
So you’ve heard
To be near
Much preferred
Out this morning
Town was gone
Storm was forming
On the pond
Gray and dense
Air that girds
Like a fence
For friendly birds
Feathers dark
Whatever types
Crow or lark
Bars and stripes
Rainy days
Sky-lit piers
Where I stay...
Tiny fears
Have to do,
Sorry waves,
With me and you
A place to save
What remains
Or keeping pause
On putrid strains-
We’re all the cause
Not me alone,
The ilk of heart
What was done
Was all our part
Not just mine
From onset
Nothing fine
Deep regret
Nothing sound
The worst of friends
Could have found
The better ends.
In ruins here,
Sure you know
To be near...
Unlikely though
Gray and dense
Air interred
My lovely wince
For stupid birds
And brutal trees
Sick duress
So Jenny...
I digress...
There again
Sometime soon,
Will think of when
This afternoon
Tell the rest
That I said...
Whatever’s best
Off the head
As much for now
I’ll try so hard,
To stay low somehow,
Till then, regards

Walking on home
Amid the breeze,
Of provocative wind
Whipped through these
Colored and life-
Song singing trees
That grab celebrations,
And breathe peace

The leafless sing
In somber tones,
Empowering hymnes
Dimmed by ones
Who chatter green
And clap their fun
While whispering bushes
Gossip on

Rushing through
The errant pins
Of needling trees
The peaking fins
Of rampant weeds
To where and when
I’ll keep in mind
Till home again

I need to search the many bound books
To drag my mind over each page
Become a magnet for facts

I need to leave air, earth, fire, and water
In my wake, as things conquered

I need to create an orbit
-a trash realm for all orbits

I need to be saved from clutter, by
Use of clarity, from clarity by use of clutter

To relent, I need to get away
From the feeling
That my feelings are magicy, syrupy star-dust
Or aren’t, or should be

I need to remember the crunch of gravel,
The “thunk” of hollow rubber tires,
The creak of swings, a march in vacuum packed
Air

And when I feel that I need to rule over everything-

I need to return to needless days
Before time I realized
The importance, the pulsing of the endless need