Saint Paul

Gasoline plumes
Fluid and white,
Disperse, greeting the city snow,
The city air,
With a caress.

Portland

Pink blossoms unfurl slowly,
Hesitant and hopeful.
Steady, strong blooms met with winter rain.

1

In the stomach of the earth
There grows something green
She's bound to give birth
Any day now.

Bubble over with mirth
And also with girth
While the lean beans
Break forth from the
Soil.

0

What a stupid way to be
Buried to your knees
With useless uncertainty
What a stupid way to be

What a senseless way to act
Covering your tracks
Wallowing in facts
When your abstract becomes cracked

What a sour face to flaunt
When zen turns into want
And old habits taunt
And haunt

And what a terse thing to write
After taking staggered flight
From trite fights that do ignite

We do recite
But now contrite
I bid thee goodnight.

Dust to Dust

The night time pendulum
Keeps swing swunging through stardust

The cosmic hands
Keep tick tocking
Grasping arthritic planets by their rings
and spinning them through
the clock maker's window.

He clears away the grime of the future
And sneezes,
Aggravating the misbalanced earth
Tipsy on her axis

Reaching into the stardust
He grasps the schizophrenic planet
By her ozone
And peers through her windows

Seeing we know not.

And the nighttime clock maker
Sinks into his twin sized bed and
Callls on soft sand
His cosmic eyes
Spinning through the grime of the future

Aggravated, he sneezes
And loses his balance
Tripping into the soft purple velvet
of accidental disintegration.

The Infinite Shower

Slippery soap suds
Sunlight streams through frosted glass
Shampoo, skin and smiles.

The Silent Chill Death

It's so very cold
In a house with no windows
In rooms with harsh overhead lights

Where socks do no good
And the winter seeps in through
The cracks in the walls, bleached white

The chilled ice sinks deep
Into fancies of sleepers
And burrows into ancient bones

And preys on the young
By plucking their tongues
Snatching voices where er' the wind blows