Six Poems

Calendar Of The Moon

Moon of soft dreams
Moon of sweetness and smoke
Moon of wax and tar
Moon of scaffolds
Moon of the charnel grounds

Well-hung moon
Full-bosomed moon
Moon of a face I sometimes hate
Moon, Moon of a face I adore
Moon that turns to flame
Moon that turns in pain
Moon that goes as far as I go

Bandaged moon bruised and bloodied
Tangletooth moon with a mouth of cotton
Babylonian moon hiding in a cloud rack
Old man moon sitting in a chair

Moon covered with lost socks
Moon with astronauts in her mustache
Moon cruising in her black Mercury convertible
Moon dancing in a diaphanous gown
Moon peeping in at me through my window

Cryptic moon
Perfumed moon
Drunken moon

Moon of the raven who sat on the flagpole
when a bolt of lightning struck
Moon of the humpies jumping in the stream while
I'm doing the venison jerk to the stoverag band

Moon on a hill in a tree in the heart
Moon in a place I've made
Moon just beyond my hand
Moon, will you be free after work?
But, no, you have to work a double shift

---

Time Speed Language

     for Claude Smith

I take a sheaf of clouds
from the top shelf
and a burst of sunlight
from the pine trees

I run around looking
for the croak of a frog
and find it in the center
of the earth

without sleep for a week
standing on a corner
watching the light flash
a man walking/a hand/a man

a mysterious thing
a man
speaking from inside a light
from inside a hand

here I look at the sea
hear the waves
break upon the shore
and in my heart

a woman sails by on springs
and a man pulled along by a dog
a snake sluggish on the concrete
a leaf ashamed of falling

I take a bath and wash my hair
I lay out my dress shoes
my new tie and a clean shirt
I'm so happy we're going

going going way beyond
going on the way
on the way to God
through love

---

N0 O Zone

deadly rays
not easy to kiss these off

howls coming from shrouds
bodies piled in heaps
arguing over the sky
totally dismal
the darker it gets
something serious
seriously out of control
maximum out of control
a landscape of refrigerators
wrecked cars and black feathers

tempting to say
"to hell with it, I'll
eat while there is food
drink while there is drink
love while my flesh is still fresh"

---

Spit In The Ocean

62, going on 62, how did I get to be 62?
taking mom to IHOP for potato pancakes
seeing a sign advertising one free meal
with the order of two for senior citizens
I'm unable to take advantage of the savings
frustrated insecure low self esteem low
grade depression impotency introversion
freaked out flipped out and flustered

a lot of this going around
maybe I need mistletoe injections maybe
I need Viagra maybe I need more yang
in my diet do a few pushups along with
the qigong and a class at the JC relax
quit worring about what LIFE means

nothing serious here just a momentary
meltdown

---

Being Just As We Are

we shall be one
even when the hollow faces
on time's screen stare leaning forward
across the distance between here and there

in morning calm
we sit at a red art deco glass table
drinking espresso, Bongnan and I
along our own 38th Parallel

a story about a water tower
falling on your head and being trapped
in the dark and mud for hours
and you laughed, Bongnan
at the ghosts eating on festival days
telling your mother
the chopsticks didn't move

after you left, I sat where you sat
with my arms around my knees
trying to feel your presence
sitting in your place

---

New Forms

Where do I go from here?
A new will is born
with the flowering of spring

A place smaller than the heart
but bigger than the world