45*21

woke up around 11 AM today
staring at the sun
the moon may have been there too
there are families
there are trees
knocked upon like a door
the babies come gladly
everybody is happy to see
the great splendor
vanilla chocolate swirl
oif, the back ache
walking like they do
hunched and happy
despised by none
the gladiators of our day
I held the sun with one finger
and watch a gentle wave
the eye never has caught
just an instant and we're gone
like so many rugs
on the walls of Byzantine castles

45*21

there's no holding on
the wind is too strong
Dixie when the heart wanders
do you ever wonder
effortlessly without feeling
the tempest is a stranger
stranger than we want
the corners hold reflection
doubt is our inspection
climb the walls of guilt
behind the face of solitude
desperate missiles are launched
if you are pregnant we'll have another
I wonder when the end is here
is it in my ears
the community gardens
are the microcosms
of all that sound
and around surround
tiles on floors
and ever opening doors

45*21

another Congolese angel
conjuring the light fantastic
from the myopic inward
the rain fell in bucket
upon the cathedral
windows open in December
stars illuminating the inside
but when we glow
the orange shade breaks dot dot
and more than not we'll watch
the celluloid is fed to the sprocket
the old man mews like a cow
he is more child than most
something of frost on the trees
we mellow with time
but will our interests ever grow the same
child minister
with a spinster in barn
the door flaps open with the wind
we never go anywhere
she says

45*21

there is no bluejay way
is there a bluejay way
a scaffolding to the sky tower
my heart goes thumpity thump bump
as I float effortlessly toward the ceiling
then think of the genuine
and the not so
a perfect conspiracy
the blockheads win
what will the bank say
you got no bank
no reason to exist
in terms of the alley
and those practitioners
who lose all their life
to sacrifice
the old country doctor knows
life comes
and then it goes
and what's in between
is all that matters

45*21

I'm lost inside a viral tendency
I'm lost aside a viral tendency
Well I know
and I've died
Lost inside a viral tendency
I man plays harmonica
blatant
subtle moon in oily clouds
disappearance of that sound
brief are the movements
of stone
but a sound grows inside
a vague sand
makes all perimeters grow fern
G I V E YOU MY LOVE
listing tower in the glow
bit the weight time
and aloha asparagus
captain of the sideshow
owls perch under
sandstone

45*21

why, with all the murky madness
tomorrow's another day
they say
and the children of yesterday will talk
and they will not know
but tomorrow returns
on a disc of today
we drown our sorrows
in any elixir possible
smoke it away too
there is no disappearing act
only finality
it is a whisper away
and yet new life comes into being
and we are thankful
and it lasts
and we take care of it
and so happy to
even the gruffest of us knows
the sorrow it takes to live
and we age

45*21

blah blah blah
blah blah
ha blah ha ha
blah
blah hablab blab
ha bla
he he
ha bla blah
concrete
blab
blah balah
bah bah
black sheep
black blab
bin blab blah
blan but blab
blabby can blab
snab
blah blad
blabinato
blab scab