Works

Counted three white pigeons
on a roof, near a gable
silhouetting a barn;
as an afterthought
killed as many nervy bluebottles
on the bedroom glass as
warnings to myself, perhaps,...

Rocky shale, pale voile,
sun lighting the
clearness of the bay;
come Moccasin Flower or Grass Pink
unto Painted Cup -
big with primula eye, these septs off wild
and inland seas.
...

Poltergeist activity
- the sun winding like a staircase
onto the pavement,
rickety afternoon
shooting back thru
shawls of the city.

Tippy-toe. Curtains...

My mind, rarely with me alone,
parts with energy,
the floor boards scuffed
and landing beams just
roosts big enough for pigeons
on leave from fields
darker for their grain.

In my childhood, "Verdun," meant madness.
Bars on the windows, cages around the intellect.
Time was a poor keeper of souls, it seems, wore out all but...

A sailor, "tatoo you,"
the cigarette Players
with tape-deck playing
a jaundiced "Yellow Bird",
Cerveza, Dos Equiis, the
two horses, in red flame,
across the label.
...

With leaves twitching
the autumn air
and the burnt almond
breath of landscape
heaving relief,
the afternoon heavy-footedly
walks across
evening's threshold.

II...

No broken visor, emptied glove
abandoned cudgel, opened net
- only gathering spots on spreading sand.

Clang of cymbals
wrench of flesh,
death is a morsel
delectably met.

Lingerie,
black pumps
a navel creamy enough
to drown a kitten -
the clothes assemble
in microwave fashion
- crackle of fire -
the silver pants zoom across legs
with curves so caress bound...

I feel like cutting my finger,
hiding upside down
clinking a canteen
shelling peas along the floor.

From the focal point above
anything could be.
Light dripping upon...

A cemetery overgrown
such that each tombstone is a pauper fungus
crowded, dark with leaves,
or hollow gourds hideous,
in a forest sleep.

Green angel lights
stream from the willow tree,
in direct symmetrical bearing
three birds are drawn to it.

In gold, soft patches
of light overreach
the earth,
shadows trace ridges...

I have stars drying in my eyes.
Heavy seas, in wind.
They have sealed me from the heavy
dragging sockets, otherwise my green eye shields.

I have scars all over my eyes,...

In a pleasureless world, pure pleasure exists.
Particles of sunlight, exquisite with nightdrops &
leaves stringent with dew,
persuade tributaries with inset eyes
to depart down foible breast, sticky fingers...

Cloves on the table.
(jardin parfumel
are like ladyslippers
with the jargon
of their sweetmeats
preserved in
aromatic slabs
about a garden wall.

Spanish ivy
is the pastrami...

A man weeps at your ankles,
climbs the stairs to peek-a-boo
panties, with finger clasps,
a Rapunzel lowering your hair,
the long-matted braids
a skilful weaver turns to gold.

An ivy forest in...

Life as green illusion -
the cool fronds of the fern
are deep set in firmest soil
and the grassy narrows
brook a silent, liquid play.

Red illusions under glass -
quietly picking strawberries...

So much time has passed
& time is a hooligan run wild
littering the streets,
squeezing toothpaste at the wrong end
shredding clothes with a razor blade.

Time is never called into account -...

She was fading -
into the stone
into rifled shadows heavy
with fallen light,
rippled boughs
of splitting fruit &
droopy leaves
to a sallow body under clumsy years...

1

And like a cobbler at a bench
I return to my musings
why Kensington Gardens
with its grand, theatrical entrance
is gateway to London's poor
- why the stiff Victoria and Albert...