WITH LOSS OF EDEN
D PRESS ~ 1992 ~ ELLENSBURG
COLLAGE BY THE AUTHOR
DIRT
Dirt makes me itch.
Concrete hurts my feet.
Kindness is an official bitch.
Lawn's order, every street.
ELEMENTAL
Two friends
near
this fire.
You here,
I there
in a garden
of fire.
GREAT
Joaquin sings
of Lily's graces.
She brought
the house down.
The house had beams
metrically spaced,
columns of concrete
delicate as bird legs.
A structure,
a broken shell.
BIG FOOT
One drop goes
a long way to ease
the friction.
100 billion barrels,
ten to the tenth power
while the answer is hair
warm nights in fur,
and the best investment
is Sasquatch.
RED GIANT
Hard to see
the truth. Shaggy Curves
in a fuzzy country.
Realm of the densely packed.
In turn, a town with streets
that aren't on any map.
DETAIL
Birds that lay
in Euclid's branches
have a view of May.
Spring blows and sucks,
sucks and blows
the eucal blossom.
It's always ragtime,
suck and blow.
OLD GROWTH
Mother's gaga,
limbs tied in tape.
No cedar to see, dear.
Can't dial 911-rape.
SLASH
Hands at work,
sound of saws,
a drape of smoke.
Gaia grotesquely
posed, tossed flesh
that terrifies.
ON THE BEACH
The beach at Miramar
is marked Right to Pass
Revocable At Any Time.
Rotting pears, banana skins,
oil derricks, old derelicts, all forms
of rubber, wood and steel.
ripped to elements,
stripped of character
and dipped in tar.
EREWHON
Zeroing-in on
the many that are one,
a place
where the parts
are not knowable
from the hole.
Halve what you have,
enough is enough.
"Good morning, nice day!"
