We scream at each other
we are art – some say
Whisperers
I hear you
Beat me purple baby
till I’m plumb
Just a kiss away
we’re whisked away
some cabaret
I stand
corrected
I lie
in and on and about
green meadows
Till we fall
softest of all
about them
Chagall 2016
So adept her foiling the mesh like that
snared prolific beneath too many stories
nearly bad endings
Some torque at the hip wrenches her thrusts
she needs to invigorate tightening tendons
to stretch wider slowly, more lazy laterally
So all is forgiven though all is so lost
also and again yet again
I watch her in profile, breathlessly arced
above her off-shoulder, a continuum of rounded
embankment, her body cut luscious
arcades where we play bathed solely
high windows tint green
afternoon trees, warm breezes
the eve of special days
Chagall 2016
How did we get here – do you know?
I asked uncertain of the blue
in the surrounding she replied
They’ve decided the moment repeats forever
Just you and me
I understood the nature of fate, she knew
It will have to do
Chagall 2016
I’ve no hatches to batten
down and round I go
in a spin
ancient
dark funk
Goodnight to all along Battenkill
(frigging spellchecker never heard of the place nor the river)
How many pounds of flower
does it take to hold one down
and round I go
in a spin
some sort of voodoo
I take it
I gather
assemble all I can
we take us with us
by the tree on my count
let’s mark time briskly
we escape
one by
one
Regather
two
by two
slithering down
and around I’m gone
in a spin
merely light minutes
away
Chagall 2016
If every planet teemed with life,
the multiverse one big beautiful bazaar,
billions of blue orbs everywhere,
star-travel commonplace, fast and cheap,
an interplanetary agora of sorts, would there still be war?
Chagall 2016
I am intrigued by how blizzard snow removes reverb from the world
how your voice carries urgent presence atop cold flat air
Chagall 2016
Humanity is the joy
we bring to those
one degree
of separation
away.
Chagall 2016
I picked her up 8 PM
As she locked the front door
I stood aside breathing in deeply
the cold winter sky
Where are we off to?
she asked excitedly
Pointing up I blurted
Orion Nebula, a star-forming region
below Rigel and Betelgeuse
there’s some folks I’d like you to meet
After staring at me long and hard, she said
Wait here a moment, let me grab my gloves
Chagall 2015
Colored beads cover every atom of her surface
skin to halo collisions create misty aura
En pointe her tenons convey the brace of hearts,
on flex she sighs as she stretches that about her which is ground –
not earth, but the space against her figure where existence breaks into outline
against the void she enables
She hurtles through space, falls at the same pace
as mystifying tendencies there on the outskirts
My fingers trace her hem to a chorus of Amen
remnants of older chants echo about us
There is sadness in her beauty
melancholia piques her desire
We find random wonderful happenstance
perfect such that there’s no need for change
so we will time to stop to persist every aspect
to christen Us as timeless
Together we as twin stars bare
heavier atoms still
Chagall 2015
Alphabet City 