SONNET FOR THE LIVING

Holding hands with the shadows of the dead
The coolness dissipates from our palms
These whispers from the mortuary eaves
Longing for us to be joined with them
Drawn from the supernal hearth of our home
What should be found scary and eerie
Is the stability of our own street
How it bridges across the seasons
Over all the weathered years of our lives
What should really awe and terrify 
Is how the ground and our feet came to meet
And we all arrived to see what's here
Caught in this cold void from eternity 

BLOODWISE

I fill my eyes
to the rim
drinking this
all in

reeling it in
spinning
circumnavigating
the horizon, letting

go on a carousel
head tilted back
eyes shut wide
night drops

replacing the film
with dreams star
projected through
each one of our bright
eyes wrung clear   

REFUGEES

Fitted into life's 

little paradoxes 

glittering for me

when everything 

became already 

yet to be 

clear is the day 

before yesternight's 

cadaverevery

settled succinct 

unique unlisted 

and growing

less than half 

of the truth 

was always 

showing 

broadcast 

from the other 

side when 

cancelled here 

and now playing

over there since our 

message long sent

beamed in 

and out of 

existence 

having

foretold a story 

and forged a plot 

of rebellion 

from alien 

flowers

PRETTY

I secure a darkest vision

I hold its hand as it walks down

The cellar stairs lack precision

In the dark there hides a clown

It is smiling very loudly

For look what it has found

LATE VISIT

An old lady 
in a grimy 
house gown 

lids half opened
revealed perfect 
unstaring eyes

wrinkled lips remained
half snagged on
yellowing teeth

I strapped on latex gloves
and touched and prodded 
and felt the skin

I rubbed the fore
head with my fingers
trying to massage 

her quietly awake 
I played with the eye
lids pulling them back 

up with my fingertips 
then released them 
and watched as they 

slowly shut halfway 
back down in silence 
It was hard to believe 

those eyes remained 
sightless so I reached 
over and held her hand

O, THE DAWN

Under the veiled lashes
of heaven am I kept warm
at night under the mantle
of sleep. Hidden in the mur-
mur of that falling shadow
lies my love protected

To stop loving her would
be to shut my heart to all
the living women of earth
To make of them a false
memory never to manifest

Thus my real memory of her
becomes a living mirror
through which she may 
continue to haunt me all 
the remaining days of my life

Not all ghosts are borne
of death, but all deaths
bear ghosts

LAZARUS TAXA

for Lucius


It doesn't matter how much attention one pays if grim extinction comes for them. 
And we all got here for free—without paying attention. 
I suggest we all enjoy the ride while it's still happening. 
In fact, the skins shed from extinction have
been torn off our own back like a fuse
trailing behind us—a comet's tail
if you will—and even if you won't
agree or clearly see what I do see
a glacier evaporates slow
as it forms and you know
when they're finally gone
nobody shall
compare one
to the buried
analogy
of these
burning
humans
from
here
on
up
.

MAP OF LIGHT

Cosmic micro- 
wave back ground 
 appears as ancient 
light imprinted 
on the sky from 

When the universe 
was about three
hundred and  seventy
thousand years old

Today 
faint traces 
of  ancient light 
yet linger upon our 
eyes and remarkably 
it appears not evenly 
spread out across 
our  universe 

Extremely small 
fluctuations 
in this shroud 
of light which 
make it appear 
to be clotted 
are in fact   
seeds from 
which grew 
the galaxies 
we see about 
our self today

The universe 
began in a hot
dense state which
exploded outward 
at a rate exceeding 
the speed of light  

Then it began 
to cool even
as it continued
to expand and 

Now here 
we are
to day