ballerina of the diner,
you dance my plates to and away,
your fingers as elegant in motion
as your dance, as your elfish smile.

Marina,
ballerina of the diner,
you dance my plates to and away,
your fingers as elegant in motion
as your dance, as your elfish smile.

Marina,
Ballerina of the diner,
you dance my plates to and away,
your fingers as elegant in motion
as your dance, as your elfish smile.

MARINA
Ballerina of the diner,
you dance my plates to and away,
your fingers as elegant in motion
as your dance, as your elfish smile.

MARINA
Ballerina of the diner,
you dance my plates to and away,
your fingers as elegant in motion
as your dance, as your elfish smile.

MARINA
Ballerina of the diner,
you dance my plates to and away,
your fingers as elegant in motion
as your dance, as your elfish smile.

Dawn-light flits like sparrows,
grows like carrots. The sun comes
without rings. I play my daily
hopscotch: toss, skip back to base.
Except now the base gets bigger
as I let more people play.

I braid the rainbow.
I braid and rebraid it
over and over again,
as if, were it mixed up,
I would not be. No.
It's as if, were it mixed up,
heart pounding, I could
mix with it.

The moon, losing the
tinsel of her lover's kiss,
lets him have his way.

Orchids like flesh wounds,
windows hard to crank,
soil with buried treasures:
all is in the greenhouse.

When the pain's far down,
out comes my blueprint
evaluating heartaches

Working like a dawn
on a rainy morn.
Still the flowers grow, flower.

Purple-blue mountains
like gowns--sunlight like
tassels, moving, dancing,
mortar board tassels--
help dawn graduate.

Like buoys, dandelions dot
the green sea where Herman
Melville is buried.

For sky is gone when
we close the door and
seen through a window
it cannot hurt you.
Peace.peace in this house--
but if we raise the roof
the sky will return.
Blue as always.

If I just look, blooming rose,
and if I just take your picture,
I will not know the the feel
of your thorns and, it that's the
case,I would not be alive.

Shimmering moon, your face painted,
shadow floating free; you left a mark
on Emily D; will you leave a mark on me?

Romantic sand dune,
blow the other way,
for your grit is far too real.

The show is part horror, part comedy.

Red exit lights tattoo the darkness.

The lights go up when the credits show.

Who the hell ever heard of the gaffer?