Tidal OrbSometimes I wish he would wink out,but mostly I just dance with Mr. Moonlight,shadow face so vagueyet genuine,weeps silver strandsof mysteryin his fullness.Languid midnight landscapeawash in a gauze ofsubdued inflectionspoured from Mr. Moon:a midnight snow ofwavelengths lackingwater... so sublime.
Stars So Bright Like KnivesA penny for your thoughtsmy sweetit's after darkand we are one daynearer death.The moon(half-empty or half-full,i can't recall)exudes regretand rapes the worldwith a wicked leerwhich lovers laudand once-loved loath...and hallowed curtainof the nightmocks me with a peacei cannot know:in this night skyare stars so brightlike knives,or pinprick private tormentturgid nowin storms' fomentof fitful sleepand discontent.
Easter GreetingsI called Jesus thisSundayto wish him a happyEaster andasked him how he likedthe gift i mailed to him.There was quitea pause before he said,"Did you really thinkthat i would everwear asterling silvercross necklace?Who Is this,anyway?"I guess he's notomniscientafter all.
Lesson Not LearnedJesus came by today andwanted to go drinkingagain,but i had to tell himthat he made anass of himself last time.I think he was embarrassedbecause he said"My dad can kickyour dad's ass,"and stormed offmuttering curses.Jeez.Some People.
Quackers Aweigh part oneOrange lips in perma-grin,a crate, i guess, is what i'm in…a boat, an ocean, tossing seasgreat waves are stirred by mighty breeze.Ship metal shudders, throws us free…these ten times ten times ten of metimes ten again and then times nine(that's lots of duckies in the brine).Brown crates erupt and off we go,once we've finally said hello(the crates, you see, were so arrangedthat all of us remained estranged).The current eddied, then it bent,and three of us, becoming friends,remained together long enoughto think of names and discuss stuff.Geoff would only call the pale blue "sky".Mauve insisted that the vines and leaves were "kelp".They called me Shine,i don't know why…i never askedand if i hadi'm sure they'd not explain…there was no time, we had a SEA to tame.i'm tossed and turned and pulledMauve's sun has changed, i'm dulledand draped in kelp. I've seenpale sky so blue, sea greenbeyond compare soft runof waves white eye
Line, Length and ShadeWith a hand as exactas precision's inceptionshe divides up the pageinto line, length and shadowin a dance of perceptionunconstrained by mere sightshe sits suffering spasmsof the birth of expression.Though she loathes itshe can't leave it'till it's heavy with life.Although she loathes itshe must give itculpability and strife.Simple line length and shadowseem to fly from her pencilonto plane of the pagenow deceptive with depth...and the figures erectedcan but weep at the beautyand draw illusory breath:forever immobile,frozen in their perfection...occular confectionbuilt but of line, length and shade,but of line, length and shade.Though she loathes itshe can't leave ittill it's heavy with life.Although she loathes it,she imbues itwith humanity and grief.