Wednesday, April 23, 1986

AMONG BLACKBIRDS


AMONG BLACKBIRDS

Movements among the blackbirds 
golden flecks and mica lakes 
captured in the corner of the eye.
In this way, words swell like an evening tide 
across a desert of granite and cactus 
and Russian caviar....
and then it all escapes into the dream.

4/23/1986
added/rev. 2/17

OBSCURE CLARITY

OBSCURE CLARITY


Listen to the luft and rattle 
of palm trees across the pond.
Only the wind can obscure the moon.
Lean towards the center.
The approach is like the obscure clarity
of dream of the first water.
Night rises from the well,
so like the sound of wind.
Incredible as it seems 
the caesura and the notes 
stretch across time and space,
to play a melody we can all comprehend.

4/23/1986
added 2/17
re to make tenses agree

Monday, April 21, 1986

SHORT TAKES

SHORT TAKES 

A tearful winter cloud waited 
while the rooster danced in winter 
Coastal clouds, 
a rooster wants to dance in the sun 
Winter patiently waits while roostertail 
clouds dance across the sky.

4/21/1986




The magician of the north
pointed past the insectivores plants
snapping in a rage for rare meat.

4/21/1986 
added 2/17



Prewrite for TENGO DINERO


This becomes fodder for the poem for Tengo Dinero


Oh say can you see
green sheep grazing
on newly minted grass?
On the banks of rivers
silvered with the coinage of fish

Who can ask the gypsies
how to line the edges of the moon?
Who sobs for untold fortunes
and greased lightning
to increase the weight of the moon
and the sky where dreams crackle
and rustle like freshly minted bills
hot off the press
and spread thin across the night.

4/21/ 1986
added 2/17






SHORT TAKES: prewrite for LUNAR, ECLIPSE, MULEGE



During the steep night
owls shift seasons with the moon
Ruddy sky slips from
The western phase of the equinox.
When will we pass this way again
and call out names
like cattle lowing in the sun?
Horses hungrily tear at the grass
as if it were the last handhold
left on a sliding earth.

4/21/1986


Who is this beast breathing beside me
like some forgotten ancestor
coming for recognition in the night
to give me new colors for dream
to shake me from the womb
where breathing began
beneath the skin of the ocean?

Sunlight surreptitiously slips 
out to reveal the age of reason.
Tattered cannibals devour the darkness
And the beast arises from the swamp.

Dust beneath, dust above.
Winged half-moons in symmetric repetition.


Why so sweet
Why so yellow
So sun, so moon.

Civilizations rise and fall 
by the edge of this fruit.


4/21/1986
Added 2/17

Some of this writing becomes the framework for LUNAR, ECLIPSE, MULEGE

RUSH HOUR


RUSH HOUR


As we approach the Bay Bridge toll plaza
the guy driving the red Honda 
finishes up a close shave. Pats his cheeks.
In another lane, a man is poring over 
the stock exchange, the newspaper
slumped over the steering wheel like a blanket.
He's squinting, I worry about his eyesight, 
and the relative safety of driving during rush hour.
I finish off my apple down to the core.
Spin it on its axis. El mundo.
Two Mexicans roll down their window 
and ask, Si? and laugh. Please.
Another driver adjusts his headphones, 
taps out a complicated beat on his steering wheel 
with dueling pens. I can see that he's a drummer.
Everybody's multi-tasking while driving 
in their hermetically sealed cars. 
I'm the only one with my car window open,
and I worry about what eating happy meals 
while commuting does to one's digestion.
I marvel at the dexterity of those businessmen 
while I, the poet, haphazardly scribe it all down
between the blue lines of my notebook,
glancing up at the last minute, just in time
to see the warning flash of the red taillights 
of the car in front of me.

4/21/1986
added/rev. 2/17

LUNAR ECLIPSE, MULEGE, BAJA

LUNAR ECLIPSE, MULEGE, BAJA 

Sunlight surreptitiously
slips out from under rocks
to reveal the age of trees.

Dust beneath us,
dust above.
Pale green bloom on leaves
like spores.
Winged half-moons
in symmetrical repetition.

why so sweet
why so yellow
sun and moon

The beast rises from the swamp.
Tattered cannibals
devour this darkness.

Civilizations rise and fall
by the edge of this fruit.

When will we pass this way again
calling out the names of cattle
on the last handhold of sliding earth?


4/21/ 1986






Tuesday, April 1, 1986

TREES

TREES


The earth beside me
like a sea breathing on sand
I place my hand upon
the cowlike vision of trees
grazing on the sky
their trunks, vast straws
to suck up particles of the sky
that have fallen into the lake.


Saratoga
April 1986 
added 2/17

WOODEN BOATS

WOODEN BOATS


Walking between the wooden boats
she tests the white coral sands with her heel
her delicate inner arch
like the inside of a conch shell
her thin brown leg
long muscled, fleet, deer-like.

The carbon blue sword edged horizon
floats above her head.
She holds her hand to her face,
a shy gesture,
as if to balance the angle of her heel
or her head against gravity.

After spreading the nets to dry,
the fisherman walks over to greet her
the curve of the boat
is like the curve of her cheek.

And the unbelievable blue skin of the ocean.

Saratoga
April 1986
added 2/17