Here, gone…
Unfolding fields
Of spring-shaped blooms refold —
I should have pressed them in a book…
Turn, world!
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Tag Archives: #nature
Lunatics
Meet me in the middle
Of the megaliths
Do unto me
As you would do unto me
Let why equal two:
Let our cold congregation send
Shivers across the wheat
Watch the stalks fall in
Strange crescents
Press the pampas into mandalas
What wily wind comes
Whipping through the truth trees?
Sweet lunacy!
I scrape my knees
To worship thee
That williwaw shakes
My weeping willow wakes
Navels in conjunction kiss
(Overgrown mound (buried omphallus))
Our legs a knobbled gordian
Knot: We braid new helixes
:Spit and sweat
and seed and mist:
Meet me in the middle
Of the megaliths
Mournful
Ghosts of mist
Float lazily silver
Through neat beams of streetlight: New moss
Softens
The sidewalk
A stag alone in the parking lot
Eats from pharmacy’s tree
Some dim star falls:
Satellite
time & time
I bud off
into another I
whomb follows non-phantoms
moving outside
Saturday’s
reflection decrescendos and
acting on the nowbeat
snow forms
I bud off
into patient I
watching the reality rain
at nightside
Tomorrow’s
shadow rectangles
into loud, tumbling
possibles and
I bud off
into identical I
watching the barley fall
the thrill of the scythe
Litter
In the graveyard:
Outer space’s shadow
Borne on wild autumn wind: stings
My cheek
nyxpression
or redream your face
in water’s indecisive surface
fills obsidian vase
set centrally of wooden table
painted cracking white
.
to lick your teeth again
and tip turmoil over
and bow to blindness
tasting orange instead
either of those hot air balloons
roar
.
am i ivy?
were veins of you
ever antonyms –
did we even see
each other’s hands?
.
gasping and dancing
sweat of forest air
beads on spider threads
melting aviaries of mercury
.
frozen of viridian
uncontained sky bleeds out
in stranger’s memory
@
Is there any darkness left
Inside the geodes?
Has anything gone unscanned?
Ostara
Bird song
Dandelion
Flowers and a pert wind
Told me it was eostre morning –
Nothing
Else told
Me – and moved me to visit the
Woods to understand how
I knew it, how
That works
ontoloberries
summers
pass, difficult
to hear, since sound waves slow
through sweet actuals, through
the tangible trees. summers come
slowly,
come soon:
hear those there-flowers opening
on extended days; smell
the qualia
grass grow
noctalimena
two kids live on their bikes
one is standing, pedaling
dead leaves tumble clumsy
across the black pavement
it is not halloween
or anything
each different night
has its name, a shade
of black for its nature
for people have names
of sound, but for nights
it’s different
snugged up in our oo
my skin gets cold creeps
when i’m thrilled, then
you read the braille
on my armbacks
with your fingerprints
just as good as an aurora
is an ouroboros inside
an amethyst terrarium
(inside an alaskan zoo
(inside the middle
of january))
⨀ 