Alphabet City

inner worlds
intertwine
sometimes yours
now never mine
since the gap is gone

in the face of nothing
all is plain

as a leaf is stirred by breezes
weighed down by droplets of rain
so is the drag of time
mild perturbations

as multisyllabic as we care to be
or not depending on the count of breath
is more than one can say

thank you for worlds topsy-turvy
she smiles at me from the skylight
adorned by cloudy skies
backlit golden stray haloes
she appears for a moment
to float airily up

with her
within her
in unity

one heart
one self

Chagall 2019

a mouthful of
jelly roll

marbles, marmalade,
namesake and circumstance

old pictures on film newly faded,
everything turns heather these days

it is violet
most clearly

stark among
sepia

more sound
than sight

Chagall 2019

the butterfly maintains a steady vee under his partner
despite the erratic path of their dance, always urging upward
into light, higher aerie, eventually ceding at the top of the flight,
agreeing to be chased

Chagall 2019

Happenstance and sometimes chance,
causes to gaze away

Quietly, nary a pebble rolls

Hot sidewalk in summer New York,
bless me o’ johnny pump

Long ago high risers of water cool
cascaded down upon me

Now I search for shade

Clear spirits and
tonic and lime can cure

Please let me run
the long line of your body

Tonight will fail to be timeless
without the knowing of you

Join me one time, just trust

There is no need
for any tomorrow

The day after…

Chagall 2019

And just like that
the priest begins to rise,
not out of his seat,
but off the ground – actually
levitates, hands filled
with communion hosts, he tosses
these like tiny frisbees, targeting
the mouth of each parishioner,
one by one, left then right, rotating
wildly like an ascending Elvis in purple robe,
I scamper to hide behind an ornate column
that bolsters the apse, awaiting the end of the blasphemy

Chagall 2019

I hope your life has turned out
as you wanted

Chagall 2019

jaded, timeless moments turned
dull, filled with ennui, perhaps
it is more about timelessness then

everything is akin to nil,
another pole of view, that’s all

there is nothing but

we do not exist, there is no other
but the one insistent assertion of to be
that we share

everything we are is akin to nil,
neuroses with names like Michael

God is us

Chagall 2019

I make frozen smoothies
using homemade heirloom yogurt,
I imagine the healthy bacteria
probiotically clinging to finely crushed ice,
vanilla and agave, frosty, chilled and sweet,
entering my body, defending themselves against
the hot sulfuric acid of the stomach,
surviving the long ride,
evolving as flora

Chagall 2019

A string of vowels around your neck –
mostly ohs, some ays –
calls me, says linger a while

with ease

spend time at the collarbone,
speak in tongues, erratic soft kisses,
come what may and sometimes why

how many angels can dance
in the round ’round your navel?

I wonder, I ponder,
I drift way down yonder

away with words where silence reigns
and paragraphs puddle-up

lick the lips of a buttercup

consonantly yours,
truly forever

with best regards
till my sentence ends

until I am free
once again

wild and windblown
thought in a breezeway,
a notion in an alley-updraft
ascending to rooftops

down the fire escape, ringlet
curls cascade your face and shoulders
where one-syllable words are writ in primary colors

a you planted firmly in the hollow of your neck
another in the heart, and one – the forehead

with a ruler I draw a straight line
and brush away the letters from your cheek

with a felt fine-tip marker
I scribble my opus there

only us two
mid-sentence

alone we two
mid-air

Chagall 2019