11-28 Hey Girl, Your A Firework.

It's better to be a turkey today,
than yesterday.

These are the thoughts,
running randomly through my head,
as I snap on the rubber gloves,
preparing to go deep,
got a sixty-nine pound-er this year at Costco,
perfect holy cavity cathedral of god,
it's too bad, we don't get to see the o-face,
this birds gonna love this Crisco slinging'
swashbucklin', leather strappin' bronco of  gay man.

This year, I had a different plan.
Out with the bread crumbs, the pastry flakes,
the carrots, the mushrooms, the olives,
the celery stalks, the I shouldn't have paired
the cranberries with pine nuts and squash surprise,
the,

Oh SNAP!
Dyno-mite, baby- is GLUTEN-FREE!

This will be the  practical, penultimate, poignant moment,
of instant perfection, the oh-my-god,
of turkey day pent-up temper-tantrics.

This is my ode,
to a bird that refuses to masticate and moisturize,
requiring a dearth of chemicals, fats,
cologne, and pretty dresses to at least
get it to prom night,
before basting the hell out of it,
promising, promising,
heaven is only a few hours away,
just save those drippings honey,
cause you're gonna need them,
when you get to those pearly porcelain white platter,
splattering on the smock gates,

you think Peter likes his Turkey dry?

he too serves his guests with a wham-bam-thank-you-mam,
brown, crispy, and rosemary babi-fied slam
while choking the beast,
in it's own butter,
keep it moist,
cackles the screaming,
pornographic crazy driven devil of a man,
that is NOT going to be me.

Not me this year, not me.
Not taking part in that fetish-filled festivity of flesh.
Nothings gonna be crazy about this idea.

Today, the bird of all birds, the divine mother of feathers,
finds glory, hallelujah,
in a resounding chorus of  YES!
this is the A-men, to end your Gloria's, your Excelsious Deo's,
your Hit-This-Baby-One-More-Time with your Jiggling-Cocoa-Puffs-Get-Me-To-The-Church-On-Time-Pop-Over's!

Today, I take back the table for my own!
Today, I cry,

This is the salt of my earth,
This is the rise of my bread,
This is the day I ripens my peach blossoming panty preserves,
This is the day.
I will not go quietly into this night,
I will not surrender these oven mitts without a fight,
I will not...

now it says here to tie the strings in a criss-cross pattern,
so the legs are perpendicular pointing to the ceiling, begin,
by rolling the turkey over, and placing him gently on his back...

who wrote this shit,
f- this, six hour love-fest,
I got a buck-o-five of freedom
that says, this one's gonna be a quickie,

now where did I put that gallon sized potato gun,
it's time to Katy Perry this bird into the sky.

11-27 Curl Into Me

curl into me sweetie,
the night is cold,
we tried,
but it's you and I,
it seems,
tonight,
best gift ever,
damn your frat,
cupcakin' sweet-ass soul,
does everything in my life have to
smell like,
sigh,
both of us are,
pillow lovers, cuddlers,
furry, long-time into the night,
candle readin', belly rubbers,
what a pair,
luv- ya,
curl into me.

11-26 Bird's Nest

Bird's nest,
sparrows fly,
sing.

feather, straw,
smoke, and hair,
bird's nest,
sparrows fly,
sing.

out of the chimney,
into the night,
away from the light,
hidden in sight,
feather, straw,
smoke, and hair,
bird's nest,
sparrow's fly,
sing.

take these wings,
fragile things,
out of the chimney,
into the night,
away from the light,
hidden in sight,
feather, straw,
smoke, and hair,
bird's nest,
sparrow's fly,
you and I.

Sing.

11-25 A Wenzlless Thanksgiving (a funeral dirge)

It was the night before midnight,
when from under my bed,
I heard a plunky rustling,
as if something had woken the dead.

I looked for my Tater,
who should be all snuggled and snore,
but all I could find,
was a slobbery receipt,
from the nearby hemp-it-up music store.

The plunky turned funky,
at first with a laugh,
then a whiffling waffle,
like old men passing stale gas.

Horrified but intrigued,
I hid in my sheets,
fetal-ed into a ball,
cursing my unwashed flip-flopped cold feet.

The wheezing and whining got louder and brass,
and as crass as this sounds,
it was either face that, or my garlic-pizza eating...

So I poked my head out, who's there?
whimpering a try of a shout,
but only the moon, bloated, and bleary,
cast me a wild eye of indignant, incredulous, doubt.

Tater, I clucked, quietly to myself,
Tater... listening for the clink,
of her collar and tags,
but only the wind,
scratched and schreeched, out-of-sync,

a croak, caught in my throat,
I fell silent, insert a joke here about wanting a goat,
cause I have and it rhymes, with throat and with float, but,

The silence was brief, about a waist thirty two,
seconds, then blaring, a fog-raging barge from out of the blue-

there rose a great beast,
one, or perhaps, two,
bulges were bouncing, blasting their booms,
but my eyes and my brain couldn't, didn't want to in general assume,


So I yawned, closed my eyes, and said screw-all, gave up,
when the beast snorted, a familiar sort of sea-lion,
plush, toasted, and fried, gentle up-chuck-
Get Up!

Tater! I cried flipping on the light,
immediately the words, oh-so-not-right,
fright, sight, oh-my-god, why, shite,
came to my fragile, muddled, midnight-mash
of a mind,

Tied to her back and floating in the air,
were bevy of  squeak-inducing balloons,
pinks, reds, yellows, and blues,
small dogs, large dogs, one zebra, and a prancing moose.


But that I could handle, sort of,
my dog is unique,
but it was the bagpipes she clutched,
that turned my knees weak.

Licking her chops, as if spying a bird,
she raised one of her eyebrows, and started playing a dirge.

I cringed, and clawed my way further under the sheets
watching the show, not knowing what to think.

She paraded around the room, with a definitive air,
Turkey in the Straw, some Bach, and I thought I heard,
some off-color Santa Claus tune,
that had her dancing and jiggling,
in a zoo-ish strip-tease parade of balloons.

I blushed, when she stopped,
and proceed to point,
to the ceiling,
wagging her tail,
glorious saliva, dripping, grinning,


looking up slowly,
unsure what I would see,
she had taken her dog food,
and written,

I love you, (sometimes)
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

11-24 Pub Crawl

If I should rise, and you should fall...

I have to remind myself,
these are boys,
singing a men's hymn,
when I watch their shadows,
form shoulders and shapes familiar,
on the wall, practicing,
to be men singing-

was this tune meant for
such clean-shaven fools as us?

or have we become too serious,
in our attempts to stand in the pub?

when did the song wear a silver tie,
without a slur in the words,
to spill on the counter?

I am not ready to be old.
I am not ready.

11-23 Off The Printed Page

Snow.

When I asked for you to fall,
you brought me blue skies,
clear as day, filled with an over
abundance of,

Sunshine.

When I welcomed you in,
you brought me a storm,
a weather of hurricanes,
as rage and intensity,
scared I hid,
in a den with a

Behr.

when I woke up next to you,
and roared frightened,
you roared frightened too,
neither of us prepared,
neither of us knowing what to do,
and so I left,
when Autumn came,
whispering to me of Winter,
and

Song.

but  I stumbled in the sudden,
blinding sunshine bright, snowstorm,
that roared in my ears, outside in the woods,
so brambled, I

turned around to see who dared to follow,
but there were only my footprints,
in the Autumn leaves.
I was alone. Again.

but I haven't forgotten you.
I know you read these words,
I haven't forgotten you.
This is about you too.

Valentine.

when I asked you brought me dance and candlelight,
and you

Adorable.

before I could ask you brought me dance and candlelight,
and

You.

for a brief moment of yesterday, You shall remain unnamed,
but on the keys, so lightly playing, I thought I heard You,
lightly playing a song of dance and candlelight,
You.

but, as they say, ever popular, ever wise,
Winter is coming, and I am looking for Song,
off the printed page...

and I must go,
where the snow falls for me,
the sunshine warms me,
the behr's hold me,

but you, until that winter day comes,
keep lightly playing,
a song of dance and candlelight,

while I wait for the snow to fall,
somewhere, softly,
in my heart, a prayer for Song.

11-22 The Day I Tried To

wake up,
but instead watched the spiders crawl,
slowly across my ceiling,
spinning blue threads into gray,
into gold, into gray, into rose,
blooming all the while,
their nest, forming
and hatching,
tiny insecurities, thirsty
scratching, caught in their
mother's web, spinning into blue,
into gray, into gold, into rose,
sewing my eyes, thirsty,
spinning into blue,
into gray,
into gold,
into rose,
spinning.

11-21 In The Hall Of Dreams

you wrapped me in a white shroud,
carried me,
up the steps,
light as butterfly wings,
scabbard worn,
down a long, stretching, hallway,
where you tried to say goodbye,
so I could sleep,
deep within the hall of dreams,
starlight, dropping from my eyes,
I wasn't awake,
to see you hesitate,
before laying me down,
roses blooming on my forehead,
hot, you looked up,
and they, shook their heads,
gray robes, blue-black glass eyes,
fury gathering in their shadows,
you looked down, hand on my stomach,
petals, footsteps, petals,
then no more,
the stairs returning,
winding away into the dark,
and you, sighed, striking a lantern,
- home.

11-20 Now Hold Still

reality slips me a roofie,
takes a razor blade,
and starts, scraping,
with his razor blade, scraping
the skin falling from my face,
when he stops, and says,

son,
breathe,
it ain't that bad,
everybody cries when it rains,

grinning wide, with his parched lips,
bleeding,
crackling,
it ain't that bad.

now hold still.

11-19 Grobleymah

Pshaw, sweetie,
tomorrow's for amateurs,
anyone can dream,
anyone,

but it takes, grobleymah,
to get out of bed,
and shut the window,
when the bedroom is
FREEZING,
even though your toes,
are comfortable in the fuzzy,
just waking up sleep,
of warm,
even though your toes,
are comfortable,
even though...

IT IS STILL FREEZING!

Pshaw, anyone can dream,
but you, sir, you

get up, and shut the damn window,
I'm cold. 

(rolling over)

amateurs.

11-18 Last Night When The Turkey Exploded

last night, I heard a voice,

when the wind blew down the trees,

in tune with the rain,

maybe it was you?

who gathered around the table, chips,

salsa feathers flying, all my misters,

clucking, chortling, turkeys at the feast,

conversations on a viola playing,

ginger-bread men, giggling,

sunshine teasing in her ruby slippers, 

even the quiet, drama-turg, clicked her heels 

commenting on the gravy, 

while others passed the potatoes,

showing off their guns,

remarking on the winter weather,

listening to the clarkified jazz spinning,

on the turn table,

whiskey in the glass,

whiskey in the glass,

all the pretty lasses,

whiskey in the glass,

all the while, inside,

where the heart rested,

the snow fell, in sugary flakes,

glistening, where I gathered,

them all in red, preened my hatching feathers,

one for each, a song, a poem, a mister, 

and one for me,

one,

(flash, snap, pop)

fade,

last night I heard a voice,

when the credits rolled through the trees,

in tune with the rain, calling,

maybe it was you,

maybe it was you.

11-17 Blah, Blah, Blah

blah, blah, blah,
drama,
blah, blah, blah,
drama,
blah,
blah, blah, blah, blah,
drama, drama,
blah, blah, bla-

yeah, it irritates
the shit out of me too.

11-16 I Know Him So Well

I want to write this,
in a way that doesn't give him credit,
so you all know I didn't go crazy,
at the end of the fairy tale,
that I wasn't the villain,
but I don't know anymore,

villain, lover, fool,

is he even real?
who can tell?

All I know,
is I sat on a park bench,
waiting for him to sit down,
waiting for his hand,
but he didn't sit down,
he didn't offer his hand,

instead he watched me,
smoke curling between his fingers,
while he yelled, afraid of the monster
he created,
Frankenstein doesn't cry,
get up, 

but I didn't want to.

I wanted him to see and not see this,
this is me with you and not with you,
this is me.

Who knows anymore?
Who does he see?

villain, lover, fool,

Why doesn't he just sit down,
take me hand, and say okay,
nothing more, just one word,
it's all I ever wanted,

touch.

I'm afraid,
he doesn't know how.

either he is afraid like me,
or he doesn't know me,
as well as I know him,

perhaps,
there's his word again,
perhaps.

11-15 Andrew's Finishing School For Eligible Young Men

Bam. Bam. Snap.
Sizzle. Pop. Thrust.

I didn't do it.
Well...

not to go Chicago on all your asses,
but,

the wham bam, thank you,
hey girl,
doesn't work,
if you can't skillet-fry,
the omellete morning after
seduction, construction,
even if you can perform,
the over-the-bed-post,
formation, function,
you've gotta have
the hand held,
breaths between the counting,
cello conversation, with the hands,
holding, you've gotta have,
what HE offers,

at least that's what the brochure says,
read here:

simple gifts,
yellow mums in a vase,
texts that chase,
notes from a snowfall in June,
chain-link rainwater pulls, wanting,
to live forever, forever,
and the hands,
that give simple gifts
without asking,
with the cello, always humming,
always holding, always moving,
constant songs, into the hours,
counting the breaths,
as simple gifts, in his hands,

hmmmm.

so.
yep. Bam. Sigh. Snap.

I've put my viola in a case,
sewed buttons on my jeans,
found my o-voice, so I can sing,

they say, HE says,
you can be carefully taught,
but I don't know,
the hills are alive and all that jazz,
but HIS eye in on the sparrow,

Sizzle. Pop.
Bam. Bam. Sigh.

and lord knows,
this bird can sing.

11-14 Brother

Gift.
Coke bottle smile.
One hour.

they never grow up,
but they do,
pea coat, bangs,
coke bottle smile.
One hour.

hands folded,
in comfort food,
this is for you
as much as
they never grow up,
but they do,
pea coat, bangs,
coke bottle smile.
One hour.

Gift.

11-13 Mr. Shakespeare rewrites "Hey Girl."

Hey Girl!

Hey Girl!

Mr. Snow has lost his keys,

and doesn't know where to find them.

Hey Girl!

What's a girl to do?

Hey Girl!

Hey Girl!

Mr. Sunshine has stolen his keys,

and doesn't know where to find them.

Hey Girl!

What's a girl to do?

Hey Girl!

Hey Girl!

Mr. Autumn thought he had his keys,

and doesn't know where to find them.

Hey Girl!

What's a girl to do?

Hey Girl!

Hey Girl!

Mr. Shakespeare. 

Tell us please.

Where are his keys? Where are his keys?

Mr. Shakespeare.

Tell us please.

We don't know where to find them?

Hey Girl!

What's a girl to do?

Hey Girl!

Hey Girl!

What's a girl to do?

11-12 One Year In The City of Roses (or how I learned to flirt with boys)

So,

he leans over to me, pen tapping on his clipboard, tapping, tapping,
on his clipboard tapping, leaning over to me, in a devil of a whisper tapping,
on his clipboard, tapping, the devil in his whisper, leaning over me…  

why’d you leave?

Dim lights, spotlight, viola, papercut snowflakes falling, across the stage,

falling as men as women as men as women sashaying in purple, sashaying in blue,
sashaying in purple, sashaying in blue, sashaying as men, sashaying as women as men
as women as men as snowflakes, 

papercut, snowflakes, falling, falling, snowflakes,

Stop. (I reply)

Slipping on a glass slipper.

I start,  

tapping, tapping, on the stage, tapping, tapping, on the stage, in a glass slipper,
sunshine, fading, my slipper, tapping, tapping, on the glass, tapping, tapping,
in the glass,on the glass, in the glass, on the glass, papercut snowflakes, falling,
on the glass, in the glass, falling, falling, sunshine,
fading,

You wouldn't, couldn't,  believe,

if, but, I,

am, and, I,

One year ago, and a year,

ago there was a ranger,

spinning, on a glass, spinning,

cracks forming, in the ice,

forming cracks, beneath his slippers,

glass spinning, cracks forming,

beneath his slippers, broke.

The heart awoke, broke,

the heart awake, broke,

the heart, the ranger, the hat,

the mountain, oh mountain,

oh stars, bears, and rainbows,

the heart, the ranger, the hat,

broke. 

Spinning on the glass, broke,

spinning between the cracks, spinning,

broke, he felt, the cracks,

spinning, slipping on the glass, broke,

the heart, awake, awoke.

in a city of thorns, roses

in a city of thorns, crowns,

princess, slippers, and kings,

thorns, crowns, swords,

princes, slippers, and queens,

a city of roses, roses for the

queen, roses for the bear,

roses for the sparrow, roses and he,

broke, the hat, the ranger, the heart,

the ranger, the bear, the hat,

the heart, the heart, the heart,

awake. 

Awoke, queens, couldn't speak,

tried to sing, couldn't sing,

tried to speak, couldn't speak,

couldn't sing, couldn't speak,

tried to sing, tried to speak,

found he could sing,

he could sing as the bear,

the heart, could sing,

as a bear, he could sing.

With the bear, as the bear,

with the queens, as a queen,

with the bear, he could sing, 

he could speak, he could walk, he could SING!

could he dance?

Could he dance, if the chance,

had blue eyes that could dance,

in the snow, falling, falling,

papercut snowflakes, falling, falling,

snowflakes, could he dance?

In the sunshine, starshine,

in the sunshine, starshine,

papercut snowflakes, falling, falling,

starshine, sunshine, starshine,

blue eyes, he had blue eyes, that

could dance.

Given the chance,

he had blue eyes, blue eyes,

viola blue eyes, smiling, papercut,

snowflakes, falling, falling,

in the sunshine, falling, falling

in the sunshine, growing,

drying, thirsty in the sunshine,

crying, salt, crying, thirsty, in the sunshine,

drying, crying, dying, in the sunshine,

papercut, snowflakes, falling, falling,

not his.

In the city of roses,

city of rainshine, sunshine,

city of rainshine, roses, not his,

papercuts, falling, falling, not his,

sunshine, snowflakes, thorns, crowns, 

princes, and kings, awake.

Awoke, awake the lords, the heart,

awake, awoke, in the woods,

in the roses, sparrows, flying, flown,

through, the heart, through the rain,

through the city, falling, falling,

through the sparrows,  flying, flown,

the heart, the valentine, the mister, the bear,

the sparrow can sing, the sparrow can sing,

the bear, the sparrow can sing,

 in the city of roses, city of rainshine,

sunshine, oh the stars, the sparrow can Sing!

As apple, stone, autumn, falling,

falling, papercut in the woods, falling, falling,

the bear, in the roses, falling, falling, 

wake the heart, the apple, the stone, the bear,

autumn, in the woods, in the roses,

awake, believe, awake, in the roses,

believe, 

you.

papercut snowflakes falling, falling,

you

and I,

lean back in my chair, with a smile on my face, smiling, leaning back in my chair, 

flirtatious smile on my face, three buttons down, leaning back in my chair,
with a smile on my face, three buttons down, smiling, sashaying in blue, smiling,
sashaying, smiling, sashaying, three buttons down,

smiling,
careful now,

devil’s in the whisper, smiling.

11-11 Mr. Sunshine Goes On Holiday

It might have been the scarf.

perhaps,
one will never know.

but I think.
and I,
have opinions,
on the subject,
of such-a-thing,

having partied with them all,
at the monday night sing-sung ball,
oh those sunshines and misters,
those effervescent sort,
of champagne kissers,

sigh.

something was different,
something had changed,
something about his heart,
had turned away from a-stranged,

perhaps it was love,
perhaps,
one could say,
perhaps that's what he felt,
in that crooked sort of way,

perhaps,
when he's ready to sing,
when he's parting his lips,
to say as if...

in the liquid drip,
of his golden after glow smiling.
perhaps.

but whatever it was,
and it definitely was,
something was different,
something was...

all the rage,
he was like a bird, out of a cage,
like a bird, who discovered his cage,
like a bird he was of new age,

perhaps,

perhaps,
that's what it was,
like a bird,
who found his feathers to be full,
who found his feathers to be FULL!

full of fluff,
full of gay,
full of!

what more can I possibly say,
except,

that something was different,
something was,
or someone was,
perhaps.

a holiday.

11-10 I Love You

three words,
and a ring.
this is how the poem goes.

the first time
I yelled,
three words,
over the phone,
it didn't ring,

again,
this is how the poem goes.

the second time,
I gossiped,
three words,
with a napkin,
then folded it, no ring,

again,
this is how the poem goes.

the third time,
I sang,
three words,
to a choir,
as a bell, ringing,

again,
this is how the poem goes.

three words,
and a ring.

11-9 Idle Prattle

like butter,
idle prattle,
slipping in easily,
commenting as,
busy green buds,
bloom chattering,
from bubbles rising,
in effervescent slices
of apples, beef,
hot-medium,
sizzling really's,
pretend oh's,
but mostly,
the sound of one hen,
farting continuously,
while knitting with his words,
ruffling ink,
from his feathers,
admist, the symphonic din,
of his kernels popping,
on hot pavement,
f- is it the collapse already,
chortling,
to the wind in particular,
one pink eye,
raving mad,
the other,
like butter,
drowning,
from the sky upwards,
is it raining again?

11-8 But

but.
you laid your hand on my stomach,
so I could sleep,
for that I forgive you.
for that I forgive you.

but,
the other,
the demon,
who looked in me,
at told me I was pretty,
I was sexy,
I was-

he could want,
that man,
that not-man,
I don't want to forgive him,
I was naked in the candle-light,
and I don't want,
to forgive him,
for reminding me I was,
naked to him, lying in the candle-light,
lying to,
that not-man,

but,
he breathes within your hand lying
on my stomach,
as your hand,
and I can,
forgive him too,
I forgive him too,

but,
it's why,
I can't be,
with you.

11-7 Beautiful To Me (Reprise)

You are a beautiful,
but imperfect man.

Is that what makes you,
beautiful to me,
when your imperfections,
rise as your shoulders,
out of the steam,
carved from a wooden trough,
where you sit idly sculpting,
your words as they form,
rings into the dripping sky,
aware of the way,
your body rests,
in the cradle of your,
carefully placed,
ritual of rose and tear water,
incense, listening to the wind,
move restlessly outside,
always knocking,
on your door,
pushing you to stand in the corner,
cracks dripping down into your,
soft crevices,
flirting with your shadows,
like your smile,
beautiful to me.

But like your shadow,
that slips between,
the turns away and to,
melting as the candlelight,
forming, shadows...

who is this man,
you pretend to be?
How can you still be,
beautiful to me?

idle rain sighs rumors,
into my ears,
beautiful to me,
I whisper to no one in particular,
beautiful to me.

11-6 It's National Hug Your Elephant Day!

it bores me,

to write it down,

but I should,

and so,

to memorialize this,

average, ordinary, day-

a small haiku,

man singing softly,

two duets in five/ four time,

rain falling constant

hmm. right?

but if you were to count the olives on my fingers,

idly tapping my empty plate, at last, late night,

you too, would wonder, why the herd,

was quiet. Maybe this is how it is in the Oswego Savannah?

11-5 They Already Ate The Children

Have you ever met a hangover Raven?

gorged, bulging, bellies, constantly hungered?
Let me show you mine...

Oh look, they already ate the children,
you can see a few pieces, scraps, afterbirth,
slimed to their beaks, left, still dripping,

they already ate the children,

you whisper, horrified, yet fascinated,

stepping closer, to peer between the cages,

at these, mad-eyed, vein-popping- Croakers.

Crimeny, one is eyeing  you, black scales, shedding

falling to pieces, cracking, tickling the pavement, crackling,

talons dragging, ink trailing in drops,

they already ate the children,

you lean in, drawn to the  one hollowed out single eye,

woven grey sinew, and thread, 

black, and black, and black, and

You cover your mouth. The smell. Holding your breath.

black, and black, and black, and…

you forget,

they already ate the children.

11-04 The Bowl Of Whispers

you frighten me,
I see, darkness,
eternity, circled
in your hands,
cradling, darkness,
endlessly, circling,
in your hands,
I should be careful,
the words, I put in you,
where will you carry them ?
in your palms,
circling, endlessly,
in the creases of your hands,
circling endlessly,
carrying eternity.

11-03 Third Time Wasn't The Charm

three times,
you knocked,
at my door,
three times, I said,
rolling over,
hand held on my stomach,
squirming, down,
hush, you said,
three times,
I woke up,
wondering where your
hand had gone,
three times...

hush.

11-02 When Practical People Fall In Love

Mr. Behr, are you sure you want to do this?

I have one butterfly in my palm left,
wings, drying in the autumn wind,
falling slowly into my palm, one butterfly,
falling slowly,

Mr. Behr, are you sure?

I say over sunset on my shoulder,
melting into my wineglass,
black shadows wistfully,
tugging, at gold circles,
falling slowly, into my wine glass,
falling slowly,

Mr. Behr, are you sure?

I say swirling,
black shadows,

Mr. Behr,

one butterfly, falling slowly,
into gold circles, falling slowly,
one butterfly,


I say over my shoulder,
sunset, silhouette,

Mr. Behr,
are you coming?

11-01 He Came Back

He returns.

He returns to my room at night,
sitting in the corner,
watching me,
rocking back and forth,
musing of smoke and poetry,
constellations pouring,
from his hollow, swallowing, mouth,
watching me,
sitting in the corner,
rocking back and forth,
watching me.

10-31 Prayer

We place our Stone into the vessel.

And We, let it go.

We place our Stone into the vessel,

And We, Let it go.

We place our Stone in the vessel,

And with Stone, we let it go.

We breathe life into our Stone.

with our breath and feather,

We breathe life into our Stone.  

with our breath and feather,

We breathe life into our Stone,

and with Stone, we let it go.

We cast light into our Stone.

From our lantern and shadow,

We cast light into our Stone.

From our lantern and shadow,

We cast light into our Stone,

and with Stone, we let it go.

With Stone, we,
let it go.