Toes at the waters edge.The water rolling forward.My feet covered. The push and pull of water and sand. Time without end.
A waterfall of dark hair,frames her face - focusingeyes that grace you,a gift when they find you,to burn through your lies,the untruths you sell(mostly to yourself,the hell of twisted introspection) The lips, curve - paint the air,an artist framing you.Your tremble as she measures,her whispersweighted with her foreign tongue,pronouncementssighsand the sudden soundsof surrender Her face, … Continue reading Her face
This body, a river splitting deep woods,a rushing babble over rounded pebbles.The doe lowering her head, takes drink,arching sinuous neck that reflects in ripple water.That neck in memory, fevered dreams -arching back and forth, hair whipping.Your knees bent alongside rising hips,this river splitting your fragrant wood.
In woods, along the ocean,the trees feed along briny streams,the moon feeding,then starving,day upon day -time without end In woods,forest that turn towards marsh,estuaries holding heron,dinosaur-like beasts taking wingbeating along curving waters,disappearing into copses of white cedarscrubby pine, bent by winds In woods, where I fed her grapes, a picnic my young heart had packed,the … Continue reading When the Salt Blew
It unspools at her feet,a late night sky, clouds risen,of ribboned fabric. Names and titles stitchedline by line, needle-pricked fingers spilling blood,infusing the weave, Your name, caught up in there.Mine entwined with it, curving behind and along,shaped like lovers -shaping a tree embracing another -roots and branches wrappingshoots and leaves that tremble,touchfall Now, give rise … Continue reading Une fois que je su qui j’étais
Smeltingis a major achievement.The heatfurnaces, white hotmolten ore, flowing metalthat's oozing, surging, reforming,informing heat, building The sweatand burnt flesh,smelters and stokers.The bent, and arching backs. The sinews, and the heat.
INTERMITTENT A harbor, tide and fog - someblue and yellow painted housesobscured, fading, across the water. A hammeringechoing, repeatingacross the way. Woman calling out"are we going/in the water?" "Yeah, go in. I want…" "You'll hear me say 'whew!'" "I don't mind….I heard she said:'fuck you',then she jumped in…eyes open…" There's a foghorn. Atmosphere. …"…she was … Continue reading intermittent
it is pushing midnight, and I am sitting at the picnic table in the yard behind our home wisps of white cloud scud above. the moon higher now – earlier it hovered over the delta, light rippling from it: a yellow road rippling down from the edge of the Atlantic, following the Merrimac, across the … Continue reading A Moment
there's this moment when things just come forward, like stalkers emerging from the fog and you don't really want to see them but they are ineffable it is all in the moment It is You in the moment and your mom wanted better for you
Across the way, thickening winter fog obscures the moored craft in the harbor, muting this watery, drifting place. Skeletal trees stand clustered on boulders along the shore - thrown up by some past trauma or another. A lazy ribbon of snow snakes down beside them, fading as it nears the lapping sea. A cold rain … Continue reading Winter Drift