Intrusions --

we stand about the corner store

wondering what

will come; our hearts

are out and pounding

Now; alacrity, at this, our

own invasion -- they

Come and go

They bounce off each other

like otters swimming

in an Arctic Sea -- Why

should we Scream, doubtful, amazed

at this pushing force

overcoming our Minds with

guile and hate? -- thoughts

not called for

from the bottom of our brains

seek havoc with our

ordered lives, our clay structures

demolished

and rampant with remorse --

A City of Moving Parts --

Under the table, tabula rasa, we

seek Justice with an iron fist; Our

hearts are home for our Hearth -- Every

one of Us belongs in Time, sacrosanct; the

Air is resonant with Surprise and We, who

glance past the fog, can Adhere

to our Intent -- this

Scent emanates from Cadavers

left rotting in the Sun as We struggle,

backs against the plow,

our Inclusion here in Your Eyes -- What

dove circles slowly

in an amber mist? How

are we to Remember when we have Learned

to Forget, or so the Singer

said -- Pearls, there, at the junction

of hate and misuse, accumulate with

a pounding Terror; We outnumber

our foreign Selves here

with a hacksaw

and a Vise to hammer in those Nails

that boldly fasten

our Souls

together --

Sweet Lemon --

destitute here on the crags of the shore our humbled Selves

reconnoitering with grace and lemons the Truth

an icon glistening in the Wind; What

have we to do

with our differences, our heavings

of dry Flesh

uncovered by some Diety these

our Inchoate longings

burned on Sight

these Urges our delineation of

salt and Sky what would

You wear

to the Ball this year, would you Uncover

the dry desert

as some arid Oasis this the pining for

a lost Sister

standing Firm and resolute?

Gemini

Polarity, the Twin Giants --

resounding in

a bottomless Well, I stumble

boldly in

the dark, my Home, my Hearth, my

health -- Wheels

spin wildly in Autumn's dust

so many leaves

who grieve with Us

there, on

a bleak Horizon, these Masts

broken

at Will drowning our Hearts to say, "Yes,

I meant that," or

"No, that isn't it, at all" -- We

wield Axes

at our thin bodies, recalcitrant with Hate, Envy, Love -- this, Our

Center Stage

where craggy Men in Cobblers' Shirts bleed

silently and with Vigor -- Incensed

by a slim Altitude which

will not Abate here in our tepid Fall -- What

is it

that Creates a Force against itself? Every

action has

an equal and opposite reaction So we think, these

pallid days exploding in

Splendor

the Twin Giant wrestling with itself Our

Union

and desire conflated with the Pain

of a broken hip our Mothers wise

with acute

foreboding those veiny hands which Caress

Us

in a quiet Supplication of tenderness

and Remorse --

"I thought I saw a Cloud display in Orange

and Yellow; it was the

backlash of Some dark Reckoning, an

inch closer

to our Intent," or so We said -- Green

Rivers laced with foam Curdle

about mossbitten rocks -- the

Canopy that once was green now

prismatic in a fine Mist -- How can

we Hate who

we Love? --

Our minds are acrobats tumbling Sore in

the great Tent -- the Clowns'

Wise bones stamp

across the Arena, horses trailing

stirring up

powder and Mirth for young Spirits ghosts

of an Urge forsaken

and Alone -- What

Mirror reflects duality, a Skewered Self, victim-

less? -- We have

wandered white corridors tobacco

in our minds, the

heavings of lungs long lost

against a

Starry backdrop now Uncovered

by Masquerading puppets Comic

in their Pain, these

knaves our

would-be Saviours pushing Us out to

Arch our

Arms like the whitewinged Crow who

Scorns Us, We

the interloper

in his fields, the Avatar

of a weary Sage counting backwards

to his beginnings -- What

Once was an Instant

is now a Year -- We battle each

other for

the chosen Perch; We

undercut

our intentions with a Sword

of Spanish Steel -- We

remind Ourselves of Ourselves,

mute Now and attenuated; Why

do we Cry, here, un-

derstanding that We will no longer

be when

the clock strikes Twelve?

We have entered the realm of Our Duality,

our give-and-take, our

frustration and coercion,

theories of wool

and lavender beside our loom

these Opposites

our Conjugal rite -- backpressure

pushes against our Will bending

Us lithe and knowing in a fight

that will

resolve itself in a quiet light,

there, on

our glowing Precipice, stilled

by Fate --

The Magic of Pain --

Wrested from your Hands the rope

pulls, tugging against the Wind as You

question the Truth

of the Statement or at

Least its Urgency here on

our corrugated

mud-flats pixies and sprites

bow down before

our Elongated ache, our Straight-out

Inheritance

baked for Us poor Souls withering

in the Sun crying, "Mama,

Mama, I am

burning" -- We

are those toasted At the Ball, the

Shy ones in the corner,

backs against the Wall, our hard breathing

underlying our true Selves

with a procured Manumission of Souls --

What would it be if we gave in, Surrendered

our Isolation of Tears and poured

our blood on the sand

painting red circles in the Shells lingering by the Tide? --

abba, father --

stilled there by the fountain we salute

your strength, our

Saviour in these

Nights hinged

up against Glass, uprooting Anger

as Love, Memories co-

alescing in a Minute -- who

Stands listing from the Wave

when We

have come to the Light naked

and Amused?

long, tempered Unions shift

and desist before

our Eyes as he holds us in His Arms the

succinct

portrayal a joyful youth

in a quick shake, an utter Implosion

Uncovered -- liquid

pearls shine in

the lamplight as you attach your

cufflinks Man of a Circling

pleasure the whining Engine yours

to Keep running

out to Sea -- What was it

you Saw, there, a

dove on

the Wing subtle

in its Ascent? --

heretic bird of a birth pang? -- What

Silence is it here

that forms

a coherent Merger of Sky

and Water the

Foam

breaking on the Rocks the Mind

vibrant with Despair? How

do you Stand

now, Crooked with Wisdom bent

to The Plow our

iron filings lining up along the Magnet -- We,

the Casually sustained Infractions

of an Archaic

Lore urge you

to Extract the blister from

the Thumb

that We may

Succumb to Vice the soothing Balm

of an Articulate

Inclusion these Our

heartfelt Ironies warm with Your Embrace; what

Manner of being is it in this House

That stutters quietly on Our shoulders

the Sudden Arrival of a Hope

Now shimmering? These

knob-like appendages burst in Collusion

with Cacti and Maple Leaf -- These

are Our

Forbears ripe with Shores unending there

where the rowboat

bobs its listless Wandering the line

cast out as we hum

with Passion

the breaking of the Tide here Explosion

in Time and Space -- We

draw each other Close

and Embrace our bony backs father

and Son, abba, father, You

Who wince at the Morning's Light

tight with Concentration on

Galaxies and Nebulae Hubble's beacons

glowing in the Darkness -- Here, on

the edge

of a moist Earth we can

pick stray worms for bait and Wave

the Sprite to bathe here

in Our fountain; Why

do Sentences form in your Mouth to be

silenced by a knowing

look of Our eyes Locked and Loaded

ready for Trust

or Inclined Forbearance?

These are the days, here, that

never end, a duo

of flute and guitar there

by the Window's bright Sun -- We

are the bums of Nuance

here on a Mountain top calling out to

the lustrous Tides to

wash Us in blood this Neverending

Coitus of

Faith and Surmise now firmly held

in Your Arms

the intimate Stoked coals in the fir Pit glowing -- We

grow into Ourselves and Each Other

two men grown with grey temples Father

and Son now

rich with Nostalgia our Hives honey-filled

those days you

would Rescue me from Myself our Minds

scarred with intrusions

this breaking of the branch high above

Sparrows twittering chipmunks

on the run from Errant squirrels Our hope

long held and ready

for fulfillment -- What

day is it Now, here, Where

the Cavalcade

of itinerate Stars gyrate in the Night?

You look to the Heavens for some Slight

inkling of Your Youth there Where we can

Abjure and quietly succumb to Sleep, this

our last Oration

and first delivery -- I have seen You

there counting your abacus beads

with a casual hand and inquiring as to

our Next meal here

on this flat Stone --

I have grown through your

blue eyes yearning with

an impish smile; will you save

the kitten from the dog's Snappish

jaw? punishment of

a vagrant Tooth -- You stand

firm with Ivy at Your feet the Oak

tree yawning

in a warlord's Glance your

Uprooting of the Wet dirt and beetles

a tangent line, the

learned Response -- Where

is the Counselor, tiller of

this Earth holy Spirit

your Faith a Musical delight the

whirling

dhervish of the Mind our

inclination this way then that? -- have

You seen me in the

distance, praying for a certain

Constancy of being, language

the house

we Live in You grown Old with Eager

Surmise -- "I love

lovestruck Villians," You

will object; these

are Our long Lines of Abstract

reasoning burning

that bridge when We

come to It our Gardens full

of Sunflowers and

weeds You the tall Man with

the watering pail

brushing pine needles

from His Coat --

The Diamond in My Heart

The Diamond in my Heart

Flux, given and taken, the Eye

in the Storm, the magnanimous leisure

of our Class, given

over to Tar and Pitch, the moist Waves

cascading

at Our feet, as the

minnows dart about our Ankles -- this would

be magma flowing

in our Cranium, moving

down our Throat and to our Pelvis the

urge of hot ore

in our arteries and Veins the long Tendrils snaking

through our Bones a lugubrious debate

ongoing and Pure -- a heart

gilded in Gold buttressed

by the Crystal

in our Mind --