BEHOLD THE RIGHT EYE

BEHOLD THE RIGHT EYE    
                                                                                             
you watch my nakedness
watch my body turning
in the room i am naked
your eyes upon me
are naked
your left eye gathers me up
the right eye keeps distance
my breast calls your name
you gather me up with your cock
& your right eye closes

8/15/1979
rev. 1980

UNTITLED LOVE POEM perfume of flowers

UNTITLED LOVE POEM 

the perfume of flowers

sitar sound

drumbeat

music slips into the ear

bellies slip down

make love

8/13/79

TREMORS

TREMORS

(in two voices)

It's their existence I deny

Maybe I really am getting old

Only well after the fact

Somehow it makes it seem all so valid

I prepare for their eventual occurrence 

That's the climax, the waiting

The event itself escapes logic

When they come i 

don't associate the 

falling off of stools 

for no apparent reason 

clumsy i guess 

nor do i comprehend 

the rattling of doors 

with the shuddering 

earth...oh it's the cat 

or maybe it's the wind 

on the 11 o'clock news 

the epicenter was in millbrae 

a 4.8 on the richter scale 

they have these marvelous 

machines that measure the 

earth's pulsations 

those machines its those 

earthquakes they do exist 

it can't be predicted 

when they will occur 

in the spring it gets hot 

it's the weather that gets 

muggy during april 

it's the waiting for the 

event, the eventual release 

of the earth's shudder.

Aug 6, 1979

(See Coyote Lake Earthquake. It was a 5.7. I remember that it threw me right of the stool I was standing on in Cotati. Makes sense that I might not have gotten the final strength right. Also makes it easier to date the poem!)

added 2/2017

THE POET'S VOICE

THE POET'S VOICE

There are repeated curves held back
as if by contemporary indifference
And the indifference is the illusion
of intersecting lines within the ear
We are uni-motivated organisms
Lips seek out their own order
Eyes seek out their own rhythm
They beat down upon the drum
the tympanum of ear
What you hear is merely
the voice of the poet.

8/3/1979