Give me all of June. I want
the spring of blue jay babies, mowed grass, baby carrots
rooting. I want
fresh basil, wide white open magnolia flowers
floating. I want
the solstice delivering summer, and syncopating rain in the creek all night
rhyming. I want
the thickest green mountain forest trails that quiet jubilant voices
traveling. I want
you with me here loving all of June.
The donut of necessity
is enrobed in chocolate.
Chocolate, of necessity,
enrobes the donut.
Necessity is a donut
enrobed in chocolate.
Eve ate the Apple, and God cast Adam from Eden.
Eve ate the Elppa, and Dog cast Mada from Nede.
Some folks believe in God. I believe in Dog.
Some folks believe in God, hope beyond the grave.
I believe in Dog, nothing beyond the grave.
Gentle Golden, graceful beast — Dalmatian’s wild array of spots
wiry touch of Terrier’s coat — silky ear of Bassett Hound
booming voice of Pyrenees — yap of Pekinese
puppy’s breath — Shepherd’s unwashed coat
Asian dish and Huskie — eaten to survive.
Senses know not God. Senses do know Dog.
Dog is here now, loving, faithful, brave.
God is nowhere manifest. I believe in Dog.
skin complexions and complexities
She has skin the color of Nutella
her name is Graciela,
eyes intense like capella,
the brightest star in Auriga now a novella
her smile made my knees weak near the patella
tu hablas espanol?
Si, she replied with a whistling like in kwela
like a mysterious figure smoking on a panatela
I said I always imagine it would make me a more interesting fella and she laughed as the table next to us talked boring business things, selling umbrellas
what I see when I look at her
She’s dorky and fun,
clicks of her tongue, with slight gestures of finger guns
a height of five foot two,
interacting feels like writing haikus
bright like the sun,
bringing back memories of someone
reminding me of the lighter parts of you, partitions you out grew
a Finnish girl with a green streak in her hair (DREAM GIRL #3)
she likes to stand on her tip toes so her elaborate socks show
a favorite fable I didn’t know
of elephants meddling in a meadow
Christmas underneath a mistletoe
I liked the way her face glowed
I didn’t like to see her go as her dismissal
left me wondering so about the dimples
I would only know from a conversation that made me feel more whole
Dream Girl #17 (the artist)
She’s eclectic, and thinks it’s funniest when it’s least expected
she’s luminous and inner connected, like lightning she’s electric
a canvas, of her sky, painted with streaks of colors she’s inspected
a place where the bizarre is normal, and the surreal is subjective
I dream of her in her studio until I’m awakened by a thunderous interjection
like a tigress lingers
over a new-kill zebra carcass tearing a bite
as fresh and oozing with red-blood flavor
as the tigress’s lunch
to write–wallow the words
around as the tigress does her food
chewing each morsel
until perfect for swallowing
if pen could permorm with the easiness
of writing poetry
as the the tigress does absorbing her kill;
then, pen like the tigress
could lie down in the shade.
was made of concrete
built into the hillside by the WPA in a park
which boasted a trailside museum of nature
but the slide
attracted the nature of children
to abandon safety
and hurtle to the sandy conclusion.
Cardboard or waxed paper
and the surface already smoothed
by thousands of sliders
made the trip
as quick
as
childhood.
