The Prodigal Son –

Enter here, on this dark Stage

rich with

Ire and Cobalt the Queen of all Aces

awaiting You

in the dirt and glass You

see yourself

in a thousand Mirrors your reflection

a parental

incision of blues your Child lustrous and Singing

in the Grass can

you here divide the function from the Form? Yours

is a bright Alizarin sheen

bloodfelt and firm in your Mind – You have

spent your inheritance

on cool air and hail here our hero

of a passing

moment you wandering but not lost

on this littered

highway – Kings and Jacks

beckon you away crawling on all fours

for forgiveness in

Union Lake a thousand Miles

in another Man’s shoes – What

hope have you

for the dazed and the lackluster? Can

you hold firm

your eyes

fixed on a generation

up and coming a sudden ache in

Storms at sea the

passing fancies of some handheld

liberty yours

to keep

with her in birth-pangs Mother of

Us all a

Night emerging with untiring Grace--