Where Is the Abolition

Where is the abolition

of sin

from

the moment

of beginning?

I thought

we

were

better

expressed.

The coffee
is weak,

old

and tepid

because we

are
searching

past ourselves,

for an afternoon

late

in

the

evening.

Stop trying

to
be
so

easily

transfigured.

Confusion Is a Cloud

Confusion is a cloud

of vanishing

will

in the middle

of reconciliation

between survival

and

kinship. Things

are

always

coalescing

toward the ease,

which is why I stop

occasionally

and

listen.

The water is dead
in our apartment
because we
need

it.

Otherwise, it

ceased.

I better rise from this

occasion and find

out

why.

He Reached Down to Scratch

He reached down to scratch
his left ankle, as he stood in

the penalty

box.

It felt good, so he scratched

his right ankle.

Then he

knelt

to retie

his cleats,

tucking the

lace ends in.

Amid the yelling

of players and coaches,

and the cheering and jeering

of fans, he heard

a seagull

cry.

Missionary of Blue (Ghazal for Patti)

I have a long, black

raincoat

for

when

it rains.

Buttoned in

it, I can do more

when

it rains.

Little children are
fearless
of

thunderstorms.

They still
go singing

out the door,

when
it rains.

Birds are more prudent
generally, than

we.

Seagulls

huddle

leeside

the shore

when it rains.

Starlings, however,
will meet
high

on a wire

in dark delight,
score upon
score,

when

it rains.

They’ll taunt
the invisible

moon

with

their

cries of good

humor, drenched

and poor,

when

it

rains.

I’ve Killed I

I’ve killed I

don’t

know

how many

ants in the last

three months,

maybe a

thousand,

because they

want to eat

my

food.

I’ve killed I

don’t

know

how many

loves in the last

year and a

half,

maybe

a hundred,

because you

are

one

with

my only.

It’s complicated
wearing the uniform

of decision

once

you’ve

learned

the power

of wholeness.

I Let Fear Come All The Way Into

I let fear come all the way into

my obituary, and learn

about her own

demise.

Last

seen

together

overpassing

I-5, to get back

to misunderstanding,

they are survived by 

their truer

selves.

I had no idea the heartbreak
this would engender, when
she realized whom she

wasn’t

anymore,

so I closed

my

yes.

She Stopped Writing in Her Notebook

She stopped writing in her notebook
and looked out the window at a man

wearing a black tricornered hat,

a white regency shirt, and

brown knickers, digging

through a trash

can.

She wrote the word dilettante

on the blank page.

The man

was

now upside

down in the trash

can, searching for her

next

word.

I Am Stung by Kindness

I am stung by kindness
in the form of blueberries.

On the guardroom table
someone left love:
blueberries.

What are we supposed
to be striving
for

in this

life? An impossible climb
to get above blueberries.

Stay with the one who
smiles especially, when

you

smile.

Eat, so to speak, with
your hand out of glove,

blueberries.

The morning will storm

till

you
arrive
at your

senses. Share

unbeware like the

ashen rock

dove,

blueberries.

When I look at you
sometimes the
signals

are

tangled.

Only one solution
to the problem
thereof:

blueberries.