Unfinished Country Song

Dear, when are you leaving my heart?
It never began, there was no beginning,
so when are you leaving my heart?
And when is my heart leaving you?
Freedom from pain all that to gain
yes when is my heart leaving you?
Leaving, leaving you?

kicking my old dust
life's little pick-up,honking,
travels thru my heart

You never whisper
but sometimes I dream aloud
stuck in your closet

 

linger on the cliff,
walking tight,rope tight,
but I rewind and the rage
that was so beautiful
skips tiringly to calm.

unrequited,
it's ready-made to collect dust
or to be put on a pedastel
or in a dusty drawer, one filled with
sweet smells, a drawer where one
can can often take it out and
polish it.  Just to keep its purity,
always keep its purity, that honest
sunlight would dissolve.

Rage
I force the lion's roar for
his rage is not my rage
nor is his dinner my dinner
but we have the same
long lost uncle and so
I call him cousin despite
our different rages. And
what we do about them.

Howl
 
Coyotes in the basement
the moon doesn't give a howl
 
Basement coyotes
The moon still doesn't give a howl
 
Moontight and sullen
like a basement coyote
I don't give a howl

Gwenn
turn left the
street's one way
up and down
down and up
well I thought one way
Me. I thought me.
and now there's you
You.yes you.

lift up your high heeled sneakers
put your wig hat in your hands
faster faster
today's a day of twenty only four
with just its anxieties
not tomorrow's
and if you set your starting line
at zero you can almost erase
yesterday's regrets

Big popcorn Dipper,
Thank all the fish in the tank
I get to see, eat

Ring around his neck,
the cormorant dives
for his fisherman.
And I, I, yes I,
wish to discourse
on this. Sir.

Buttery skies
buttery me-
but not me-
buttery skies
not tomorrow's anxieties
not yesterday's regrets
not heavy me
buttery skies. me.

Rebirth

Dawn is tasty,is
lemon pie with rose
hued merangue, so, yes,
come the revolution,
come come the revolution

King Chicken

Being fried with bread crumbs
made him peckish made him
dull and squat in short
he felt insignificant
he felt his far right wing
he felt his far left wing
they too were hot
they too wore metal not medals
and the fish--oh there were
lies all around--yes it was
better just to be a barnyard
layer--than to be on the hot seat

Beauty

You are Cheerios
or a squabble with corn flakes
love, you ain't telling
just like traffic in the basement
or a lot of bells ringing
deadman's tunes dying with a
fly full of minnows and
lickity wings music as
coarse as kosher salt
yes I have flowed your river,
your longing clutching my
roll of pennies fit for deadman's
eyes yes I have flowed the song
down the room raising eyebrows of questions
Why? What and who was it? Art as bandito,
starting with this kiss.

Beauty

You are Cheerios
or a squabble with corn flakes
love, you ain't telling
just like traffic in the basement
or a lot of bells ringing
deadman's tunes dying with a
fly full of minnows and
lickity wings music as
coarse as kosher salt
yes I have flowed your river,
your longing clutching my
roll of pennies fit for deadman's
eyes yes I have flowed the song
down the room raising eyebrows of questions
Why? What and who was it? Art as bandito,
starting with this kiss.