the dogron

he flies upon the breeze he flies above the steam on the vent

he makes me laugh when I need to laugh

huh, wordddddds.

Yes.

A poem. A poem, A POEM!!!!!!!!

I am feeling in my arms again.
Here we go:

I.

come with me down the
soda water of my spirit

a licorice
a stick of licorice
a slice of it
a licorice

the night called me deep
unfolding
it’s arms
oh why’d you have to open up the
door
that light IS like




come with me into the vaccum
crater 100 W. Lake St tone
and tone alike

I was born here
I lived here with my mother
father
hmmm… brother, yes
yes – ter – day the only flicker
cloud
scape up
above

take my hand
love me
a squeeze
SO TIGHT
I think it’s all over –
annihilation
of
the
self

trip and tumble down the hill
on our concrete toes
on our rubber platelet toes
yes
over time and grown between
the cracks that our feet are
flapping on
growing there and unblinking
unanswering
unbundled.

become the dawn
and see through it
become a speck
the speck
speckled of all things,
become.

take my hand
that in this night I
find another
that is the night
I find

upside down
upside

down

and very still, here

kiss me once

for
good
lucking
thrice
uhhh… yeah, 1968.










II. EXIT
EXIT
EXIT
EXIT
and blossom
in your branchings
touching together
scraping together
in the breeze

we are the coldest day in this winter
we are the breath
we take of crispness
of stately order
and translucence
we break
ice on a lake
and swell the crest
of the morning
on the oranges and violets
there.

I’ll admit that I would
trade it all for that
first breath
to be my entirety.

that I would,
the cloth
soaked
in splashing
mountain spring
and cascade one hundred and fifty four
feet in my embrace.

I’m a novice
at this penetrating thought
a rope looped
tricked-up like
the puzzle sewn
through shoulder blade –

black and white
a stately art
in squares
majestic
I am the line in the off-white
of the white I was before
the light changed,
never defined
always a constant

of rearranging.

In motion I am the play of the mountain
of the bird wings
of the thousand star sleep dust
that soots
the pavement up

HURRAH FOR THIS LIFE!

HURRAH for crazy scratching
hairy bark musk
and subtle lean scoop
shout frost beard
of us all!



I’ll be the first to cry for all of
our happiness.
Take my hand and we’ll weep together,
all
thrown up
silk in the breeze
cotton fibres on the breeze
dogwood bundles on the breeze
particles when someone sneeze
us out
we shout reverberating
us all we are
reverb er at ing
us all we are
dwelling us all
we are basking now all lawning now all

seeping and creaking
all
growing and stoning
ourselves all
with little bits of grass and
pebbles dusk
all
with our sacrifice we all
a scent transduced to be
all
of
us.

I would once more
to play at

obeah
my divining sticks
for pits and pictures
of the saints I saw
touching was I dreaming?

the garden is my home
for squashes
and the tomatoes
and bean poles
and raw glow sweat
dirt
that
I am.