The river was filthy, but not to look at.
The folks from the Avenues repose.
I recall a ime when a large outdoor stadium stood
beside the hockey rink. I remain enthrawled.
It was my stride that came to the door.
There had been many steps, many mis-steps
taken on this path towards edification.
I need not dwell on the facts,
that would be too retain some stasis.
I rejoice at the recall of some phantom.
We traveled the Avenues to play sports with the locals.
There was life in the Wellington street hoards ,
everything comes from metres away.
There was less room to ruminate on one's
particular sense of life's futiliites.
So there I was with Dr O'Dadaio.
He walked with me through the mists of the river.
I was happy to walk and listen
for another flow of words.
Tintinnitis Seminar
Then
'microwave
Now
foot to the floor
A livable death at last
james dickey
like the sub-sahara ma soif as rimbe had said
was intense
at night was shaking & sweats as if a temblor
developing in
the center of the brainpan & the blood became
a tsunami
of dried electricity irradiated the salts into
snakeskins of nerves
i don't believe the news feeds
arrayed
imagine if an alien solar system
trained their
own SETI & got us on the bitch
& moan
about who where & what
seriously
that salts dried in my body where i could taste
the electrical storm
of my flattened nerves
i had
this memory of me driving thru the sub-sahara
like speed racer
my foot was on the floor
boards
driving no i was along for the ride
but it was
just me in the thing
moving fast
no terror no wreck no cry
my woman
watching on tv like i was
racing indeed
& my foot on the floor
ma soif
increases each night like it was asking for a coin
for the ferryman
charon laughing loud as i took not his boat
but his car
salts burned my eyes & i could hear
the crack of charon's
oar like in that novel by celine
as he watched
our news feeds on tv during my
run
james dickey
like the sub-sahara ma soif as rimbe had said
was intense
at night was shaking & sweats as if a temblor
developing in
the center of the brainpan & the blood became
a tsunami
of dried electricity irradiated the salts into
snakeskins of nerves
i don't believe the news feeds
arrayed
imagine if an alien solar system
trained their
own SETI & got us on the bitch
& moan
about who where & what
seriously
that salts dried in my body where i could taste
the electrical storm
of my flattened nerves
i had
this memory of me driving thru the sub-sahara
like speed racer
my foot was on the floor
boards
driving no i was along for the ride
but it was
just me in the thing
moving fast
no terror no wreck no cry
my woman
watching on tv like i was
racing indeed
& my foot on the floor
ma soif
increases each night like it was asking for a coin
for the ferryman
charon laughing loud as i took not his boat
but his car
salts burned my eyes & i could hear
the crack of charon's
oar like in that novel by celine
as he watched
our news feeds on tv during my
run
'at all
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huge dingy basement
line not moving at all
black, brown, redneck, hippie
recipients of the petty
attentions of les flics
good stream of revenue though
and i can't see the streets getting much
probably there's a new stadium
needs to blossom soon
with plush stadium boxes
for those
who never cringe at lights flashing
Milk Thistle
a child digs for memories
beneath the gorse black earth
under a foal of bone
a skull appears
cauled in sweetbriar
and milk thistle
the child digs deeper
below the shovel line
his granddad’s voice
summoning him home
beneath the gorse black earth
under a foal of bone
a skull appears
cauled in sweetbriar
and milk thistle
the child digs deeper
below the shovel line
his granddad’s voice
summoning him home
The Lovers
your hands dip low and steady
the sun washes the walls a warm red
my lips part and the breath that is released,
merely a soft whisper on your neck.
we expand and contract,
moving recklessly,
but with cause
your spine winks at me through your flesh
the very flesh I pierce with dull nails--
rake over shoulder blades,
hip bones,
down your shins.
air sucked through clenched teeth
"Love" you whisper huskily
and I answer, "is at it's end."
the sun washes the walls a warm red
my lips part and the breath that is released,
merely a soft whisper on your neck.
we expand and contract,
moving recklessly,
but with cause
your spine winks at me through your flesh
the very flesh I pierce with dull nails--
rake over shoulder blades,
hip bones,
down your shins.
air sucked through clenched teeth
"Love" you whisper huskily
and I answer, "is at it's end."
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