Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Listening to the Wind

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That recent Winter -(cold sacrilege)
gave way to tomorrow and Spring
from sheetmetal sky
now cloudless we fools stand before you
a veiled jury lacking standing
our holy stains go up in smoke
the sulphur sings a willing
lovesong and we are unbroken, yet.
We, these gardeners of straw
pissing away our days happily
nourished on onions and god
spouting our lame innocence
to waterboys, jerking us off in the rain
Listen and I will tell you
of the fox who flees the aging crack of the world
I will tell you for the price of a nail.


the canvasser rambles through the coats of the dead
fishing pockets for teeth and eyes
and something to wipe himself with
in this dimension the cost of night
is a cheap as a last song
on a dark piano.
Me. I take a hair and find glee
while a cat plays chords on its
I saw the bullies marched off into the flowers
only the lambs returned

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