lash not light,

no; unloads weight

of weights

(beauty)

onto (fragil

ity), piling

earth atop glass

seeds, potency of

love or

whatever;

nor slender hand

weak, that catches

eye and pens

itself in mind,

thin lips

steep themselves

(unknowingly)

too-hot-rose-hip-tea

don't ask me

how to tread

seas boiling with

the heat from

coils (a figure or

a voice or

her hands

or love or

what

ever).

just want ground's

smile, greet me

in spring with

whispered promise,

summer, simple

poetry (sprouts,

petals, or whatever,

respectively.)

be mine,

ethylene will take

us there, my dear

(it's nothing new)

to want to speed

things to

grocery-store

sweetened

produce, so succulent

and removed.

thirst

y

but a

quick dip

into pool

's mirage

after all

i

am

i love the where

in your hair, the

ballad of your

barefoot transverse

showing score

of space and mountains

house and road alike

in intimacy as if

at a single point; it

makes distance

seem inverse;

you are everyone

you are

ocean,

to dip a foot in

makes no less

vast, but all more

close.

cold coffee

slow november bugs-walking

sulk of heavy fog

melancholy

hades-shadowland

early morning broken glass

where in two dimensions

is without an and

end of sun-time

crunch-leaves tickle

whisper livings out of

darkness, low down

so there i'm

on a mall walk those

cheap mall shops hawked

the thought of silver

not its substance,

also plastic pearls.

strolling under an

imitation clerestory

i saw many glimmer

ing happy-wrists &

laughing-necks strut

Macy's truths

"what will you" (buy)

to mean "love" he asked,

but i didn't know

real pearls from

candy-spheres. then

the moon stared down

east-west streets,

pocked mark face

"i pull tides out

of sand beds to life,

living oceans i

invented on the

beaches and deep

down." which is

why i threw my

money on the ground

to stare instead of

buy

last night's forgot

to capitalize, (or

put on shirts) got

service though,

didn't wear badges,

reap or sow

but were

hunter/gatherer

gothicly defied

gravity in unthought

cathedrals of sky

beautiful feet forgot

ten and found

in scribing the ground.

conscious now,

fast food/fresh plucked,

a thought place

bo for reality

or the other

way around,

either way. are

'nt what we

are/think/do

logos.

wary to betroth

words, those apparati

crystalizing beauty but

clumsily attached

to self. rooms are

'nt arms, though: we

go to live in houses,

maybe move in

3 years. delayed,

to soften sharp feet

, by choice

of shoes + blouses.