Daedalus' Lament

Link to website update June 23, 2009

Hades

95

He knows he owns his own insanity

As though the practice of infantasy

is largely used to wear out his welcome among the stones.

but it is true that only paupers,

rushing to the grave, leave in ecstasy.

Why, Daedalus told me just this morning

leading him drunkenly through the life of Saturday

he’d repented flying for the grace of charity,

night will only have a wooden mercy a

damned stake through the heart of sympathy

following him about the broken places

of misadventure and misplaced memories.

All This Confusion

Link to website update June 20, 2009

94

A tiny catholic in a mad coffin

nature’s dwarf settles for this moment

the railway wind finds its way into the night and

the sun breaks down to reveal its unusual heart.

Now the dull days turn suddenly to color

the bachelor father sees his wrinkled mistakes and

prays for atonement, or at least a cure for this sadness.

Hats on chests -hardly a week goes by without some lord

giving us a rueful ritual

a burial of sighs

-poor darkness.

Smoke

Link to website update: June 17th, 2009

93

Cunning man he tried to drown

but cried for a boatman

affirmed, the dead with half a notion

threw him back laughing

the loose hero quietly too much

choked on water his slack face

betrayed his fright

the ocean loose round his

father's island- the awful son

faces an inevitable return.

Seems Like

Website update- June 15, 2009

92

The figure's form

at twenty past eleven is

a wife in the shape of noise

as if someone played out a smile.

The tribe of morning

finally arrives in a terrible

hat of light and longing to present

its particular bill of particulars, the stage

is set.

Bring now hands of hair

unclasped- the devil comes in

riding an elephant and smoking, bent on

corrupting the last beautiful thing but, as always

insisting on politness.

The proprieties will be observed at all tymes!

Apotheosis

Link to website update June 10, 2009

91

A bright-wet afternoon
the shape of shoulders, and, next week:
fun with nails.

We clasp hands amongst the operas and the accounts of other feelings
we check our cheeks to see if there is anything there, left intact,
but, after that, we meet ourselves coming in from the rain for a drink.

The palm blazes with the thinking of it
a pose that supposes it's holiness
what do we see, now that night has fallen?

The Machine For Forgetting

Link to Website- Update June 7, 2009

90

Frayed laughing the mouth of sweet jesus torn

apart by loss and grief then

scooped up by the queen of arrangement

(she gets the job done.)

A month of hoping passes with

only paper to show for it-

an hour automatic spent in

this theatre of the inside is as a straightened bone:

thick with thanks but little else.

Scarlatina

Website Update June 3, 2009

89

The dying heart, wrong uncertain

a child's immense last light

a head out the window,

the missed chance for rain

a face removed

A lonlier world

poor dog

asked of them, be done!

Old men are now drawn apart

beneath the veiled sun.