Monday, February 21, 2011

What Is Is

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I forget myself and as
a consequence of slipping
I begin again and I am
confirmed in my suspicion of beatitude
and I am longing for air so
I name the stars so I
mention my guilt
so you err for ruination
entering, as you do, with
noisy dogs
friendly bishops
mother's plumber
seeking the word in her depths
and finding the light in the end
world without end.

beauty is at hand!
we glow in our toupeed truth
and dream of Shiva
we know of autumn zodiac
we know of skeleton
seawind blown through
of twelve hands
smiling hats
and shaven chin encrusted
with dark stormbirds
we struggle for the waning, wailing light
Step on the gas!
let's get there before twilight!

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