a ballon and gold

a sky

that breaks

and a yellow flower on lion’s legs

*

                so is expecting

            she waits by the door always

            cold comes in    kisses her cheek

                                      then goes to the corner

            where he sits

          at the mouth         and so waits

                                       because eager

                                       moments

                                       wants more

so is every moment in between

so sits by the door     never closed completely

opened fully        so waits

*

chin held

higher  blue

hair lost eyes   above

she got around

    back 50 years

a desk

*

a necklace   a sticker   a bottle of milk

a tip jar

a tee shirt

a calendar

                 an antique store

a pillow

a mug

an earing   all touching

*

the cartoons     get lost

and dropout     forever under

  your heavy blanket sky

*

                            these aren’t mine, these are yours

                            these aren’t mine, these are yours

                            these aren’t mine, these are yours

                            these i am so tired of doing this

*

   he rubs his dry fingers skin

and finds words in his mouth

cupped  clapped  pauses       breathing

                                         into pockets   beating

he rakes the back of his

  voice for more

his pockets

are filled with two million

dollars    all pennies

   he loves

his hands sink in wiggle

a wave will wiggle seashells on

that tide   him

*

    you tease ceilings      you

         i have war paint in my shadows

    all walls make room

           you make    you

    break tomorrows tomorrows   finger drawn daydrips

all on kinds of body

i make i strong

golden screws hammers thread fine

finer   open faced holds hands  high

together

       fan hold hands and breeze you  you  kisses

higher

i touch you you because soft

*

they memory loved

all cobble stones

licking the pope behind the ears

sweet smiles all

and sticky sunrisingness

held in two

rotated in snowless globes

all still glitters and bubbles kindly

but nothing cold

only hands

tongues on colors

sugar from the start go

*

four old mouths drip money corners

   lean in   lean in

two windows  scared    to   move     refuse      to       open

all cups and bottles

  lids and bottles

    plastic  glasses

bottles and fingers

                               all capped  uncapped

all fingers on ears on

    baptized in his papers heap

                  wet

they watch with their tongues

                                  and wave goodbye

            under water

almost

*

he old hands move words from air immediate

he shoulders shudder dusty glass bottles rattle cold

he cement grey cracks age around him heavy

he no eyes touch no eyes    touch

he I don’t miss you

he walls inside are all warm colors

*

her

eyes embroider moments  sunlight

blocked   movement open in (sways)

(her)  floors

small sweep dances in slow motion curvatures

curtains     hide

and  don’t    (her)

reach in stretches in forward in back

each

defined space in

each

defined space

*

words on strings make love in knots

and trip

                        in between lips

hunting down throats

to find your lungs and

*

strong

wind he tips

over

all suit

his falls off

the floor wants

his love on boards

he is waiting

he is perched

is that his

i once knew a man, eight feet tall and five feet wide , he was. as sure as his eyes were his sweet smile left something warm on you from that great height. he was made of warm colors and the sunlight seemed to filter through him with a golden yellow. he was tree trunk rings of age wrapped around his belly. his words were silent, and often nothing more than an assured sweet hum that reverberated it’s way up to your heart. when they took him apart they found he was all held together by small golden screws.

there were four young men walking and the street light broke through the gate – war paint across their faces. they knew they had won. 

we held hands and won together.

There is a sensation that rises like bubbles in a glass of sort of bubbling drink that isn’t champagne.  It starts at your toes and rolls up to the knee caps, tickling a little bit. like someone walking their two fingers from your wrist to your inner elbow, those moments of anticipation trying to guess if they are there yet. it makes it’s way all the way up, rounding around your elbows and curling into the pockets behind your earlobes. it rests there for a moment. (take a breath) (take another) The released and relaxed complete.your body releases itself from the tight hold of your shoulders. there you are just floating. your head a ballon, your body the swaying string released from a small child’s hand.

Taped and glued
Into an old memory
With yellowing pages
Sweet dust
Distant lovers’ sighs
Onto the tongue of the breeze
And the air around you
Smearing your edges into the open
Air
Arm fulls of blessings, questions and kisses
Strung on long dirt roads

things found sticky

try to lick your fingers free

only to find

your mouth in the somewhat compromising position

of needing to speak for you

words like honey golden

drip like a hot day out of your lips

and slowly saunter over to say “hello,

i am a little stuck. don’t you think you could help me out?”

is it that the sound of a voice bounces off the brick-laced walls,

or have the red clay squares learned to speak after all these years

and like to flex their throats in acts of repetition?

the fields between old walls are only limited by the hours of the day,

and reinvent themselves every moment

due to such a strong emotional attachment to the sky.

the little girl who doesn’t wear shoes

and never steps on all the glass

likes to imitate the rain with the bare bottom pitter patter of her feet.

Time sits – waits on

a graffiti covered swing

in a park that is reborn

nightly

and plays with lost children and lovers

Years cradle the head of Day

in a soft lap

no matter the audience

their love resides

in the moment Time forgot