SHORT TAKES
A tearful winter cloud waited
while the rooster danced in winter
Coastal cloud, a rooster wants to dance in the sun
Winter waits while rooster tail 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
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
4/21/1986
Added 2/17
Some of this becomes the framework for LUNAR, ECLIPSE, MULEGE
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 coinages 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 to spread thin across the night.
4/21/ 1986
added 2/17
Walking between the wooden boats
she tests the white coral sands with her heel
the delicate inner arch
like the inside of a conch shell
the 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.
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.
unbelievable blue skin of the ocean.
The earth beside me
like a sea breathing on sand
I place my hand upon
the cow like 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
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