2 Poems

the light has had its way with me

thin powder gray

dull as dishwater

worn metal

I could break it with my feet

lackluster void without a single somber ruse

no disturbed bird or even yolk pale sun to mourn the fiendish bleed

this thin sky brings

pockmark

eternity

poke holes between the trees

dark furrowed glances do nothing to change anything

branches angular angry like mean old women

peeking into my window

judging my choice of vocation

my taste in men or what I feed my baby

the whole scene is trimmed out in sharp edges

familiar and bleak in its rhetoric

a poet passing by

the idolatry

of a stoic

winter sky

it’s not even wet

just

dead set against conjuring any kind of meaning or even leaving room for some diversion

resting in me

this

sour sop poetry

mockery

hope springs eternal in

the banishment of pink

~~~~~~~~~~~~

psychedelic chaos

oil in the puddle

right here on the street

sea glass colors turning kaleidoscope

mind so easy sees

a frequency of rose and verdant emerald green

of indigo blue sunlit feathers iridescent

sweet velvet deep and magenta

golden amber currents

turning twisting braiding living water suffers

I can walk across my sleepy dream into a dalliance with summer

anytime I wanna

close my eyes

against the cold

promise myself nothing

but cheap brandy for my tea

leap the poetry in me