La

Sweetly slumbering,
Slipped away,
She has saved her smile for the casual crooner
Of alternate evenings,
However the silence of truth—
A tiger lily fire
Amongst the doorstep of our home

Has given me the blue-grey paling eyes of a mysterious artwork,
Or the feminine lips which purse together
A pressed smile spread like lilies
In the pools of such
Sad, sad eyes.

Lips, teeth,
A crinkled face
Where the rain has
Spattered freckles. In the blind nights
Of winter two bodies are made
To share a bed.

Poem for to bird

Before thought,
My action sprung
Through earth—
Hello yellow tulip,
Bird of terrible speed
& the reach for it
Miss
& fragments of the empty air-
The multi-colored fury.
I open my palm for to bird
Revealing letters from Ecuador,
Perhaps a wooden plank.

Sure, I was born with a love
Of (wine) wet evening mouths,
However, I have never aged.
I only own my fingers and toes
To count
My polar white exposures
Developing oil black ink.
More than the home I made
From tangerine leaves
(Yes its snowing in New England
& darlin’ I love you, & darlin’ I love you)
I still know the moon is a woman
& I will always return to bathe
Breathing like words.

The Ugliness of Living Fish

My mother is a fish
-Faulkner

God
my God
God glorified through living and
Not so living
God who so terribly created cancer and
The unborn. Vivid
God of aurora destiny
I would so
Very much like to tell You how much I love You—

Here is a thought
Pulpy and Wet
Here is an orange
Pulpy and Wet

Behold!
Mother Earth pregnant with Macbooks—
Behold!
High-Defined television and pickled herring—
Behold!

The dead sea,
A sea of
Ugly fish. A rigger
In slickers, God, with
Seamen, drunk. Hauling
Ugly fish, God
Are you there?

Oh! In the countless dreams…

Of the Sonoran deserts & red rock cliffs
Enflamed through an impressionist hand,
Of señoritas & the swing-sway alboroto-
Chorizo laden street cars
Of the constants & the consecrated devotion to the
Golden behemoths-
Mary Magdalenes embedded in the cheap streets
Where the rats, the whores, & those
Grave, mysterious (my people of sadness)
Arch there emaciated
Clutching bones of the dead & flowers
Which stand on display (se vende)

Of what has been & what is to come &
How I long to know
Secrets of undying faith in God above & the close—
ness to the earth.
In labor-love & las noches de los chiles rellenos
Of the drug dealers & los vatos en las calles

The thumb, the road, the sun
The banks of El Rio Grande are wet with slighted tears.

I was thinking of the class and how Rob said he was going to keep posting on the site and I thought I'd do the same...