Hearth:
heart and
earth
two places
where I bank
the embers
rekindle
arise anew
in updraft
spastic flames
at first
then
righted to roar
at last
in perfect
imperfect
perpetuity
an
internal
eternal
flame
perhaps
a stoke
or two
more
an infinitesimal
tweak of the flue
is all it takes
to extinguish
either flame
Chagall 2018
M(eye) oh m(eye)
Chagall 2018
I think of having a bourbon, but I remember
I have given it up, and oh the wasted calories;
maybe smoke a joint, but then all cookies beware,
fair game!
Instead I have
a fucking yogurt.
Chagall 2018
Please know that Alphabet City does not endorse
the use of profanity, nor the consumption of alcohol,
herbal intoxicants, baked goods, or bacterial cultures.
She had perfect pitch
An absolute sense of her being
Chagall 2018
When walking to the compost bin next to the sink
to clear your cutting board,
go slow!
Otherwise the garlic skins
will certainly blow
away.
Chagall 2018
A sudden and tremendous outburst of new synapse
is creating vast networks of lateral connections
resulting in large islands – synergistic blocs –
cross-discipline circuits inciting synesthesia
of every sort where once was only my inner voice.
Chagall 2018
Another day of limitless potential
Do not take the road less travelled
Go instead into the densest thicket
Where no paths have ever existed
Forage for feelings there
Observe the exotic species
Errant thoughts feeding
At bends in the brooks
Look up
Deep sky
Boundless
Eternal
You
Not you
I
Always
Laughter sparkles
Behind a hedge
Heard but unseen
A play on the adage
The sound of falls
An alluring cascade
Breaches the ring
Consumes the mind
Free drop in misted water
Cacophony unheard ere now
Except worlds at their birth
Save for love at its death
Adrift in an eddy of a shallow pool at the base of the falls
I pine for having come this far, fearful of never being able
To retrace the steps that led me here, that could lead me home
I walk backwards onward keeping my past as a promise before me
I am impervious to thistles
Thorns that rake my back
Strewn overgrown detritus
Tripping, stumbling, receding
I
Not I
But you
Always
The gap where the thicket ends
Is where I will place my road sign
Chagall 2018
There is a winged shadow where none should be
But no one notices except for me
Chagall 2018
Perhaps I long more
for a kiss than
successful prosody.
The velvet swab of
her lips on mine
shall be the focus
of today’s incantation.
Chagall 2018
At the edge of life
Curiosity still kills
Unaware am I
Chagall 2018
Alphabet City 