I feel the air
from all your wings,
flapping, flapping,
fibrillating fritillary,
dragonfly.
Daily Archives: July 25, 2007
At least there will be no babies, then there was.
At least there will be no episodes, then there was.
At least there will be no heart attacks, and then there was.
At least there will be no ripple effects, and then there was.
At least there will be no conversations.
At least there will be no love, or no love lost.
Yes, no love will be lost and none to find in heaven’s first place,
seat at heaven’s gate,
dessert on trays and
inaccessible.
What is it? We don’t have it, something we don’t have.
The mystery the mercury the moistery the mastery. The wiggle room,
the where we ought to be. The shame of oughts the sin of noughts,
of nougats piled high and sickly sweet.
What are you, sweet or sweat? The giggle room, the pickle room,
the ambidextrous grace. Kids cannot find you,
longing longing for the kindness of your mercury.
Kids cannot find you, quicksilver. Not find nor chase you.
Not aligned.
And he is not aligned. Just at cross purposes,
and cross as well. Overarching cross and crass and
cress, the water crescents of belief. The ripple room.
Semantics, syntax. The sticky aftermath of wine,
here I am, table, table, table, table, baby.
I can imagine river living, living by the river,
the Willamette where it winds through Creswell,
life between the buttes when there was so much
more to uncertainty than there is now.
Calling calling Colorado Gail, calling on my
dead ones, death, calling on the red ones,
milk red spots or stains, the blueberry of
buildings, the gray of grass, it dominates.
What are we
what are we
what are we
waiting for?
What am I waiting for? Insinuation
explanation, manipulation, the ation nations.
What about imagination?
I prefer emotions in my tail, heartache in my bottom.
Move your bottom, Sam submits, submits to everything.
There is no discourse without reservation. The reservation
of Wade Campbell, fired from Colorado U. The Colorado calling.
White of river, rice, stiletto thinking,
harm and whiteness,
charm and lightness,
tornado in the tomato,
excellence.
Excellent observations.
Chasmatic divides of Colorado,
I am not sure of anything shaking,
sure shaking sugar.
I am aligned, aligned with green.
Light green of lakes, lake green.
Sonor of sounds, radar, sonar,
beeping in my blood.
There are no simple words.
Is there simple love, shy love?
Is there narcissism?
Is there weakness in my forearms, shaking, thunder?
Brilliance, decisions, suffering.
july 25, 2007
Random rivers of the heart.
Heart-mind, chitta.
Is the Pali.
I hug the Pali, huggable Pali.