If We Understood

If we understood
the intrinsic go
of wildest

thing

on

the street

or in the forest,

our lease per the tenement

apropos the firmament

would be

null.

Our vocation, human,
is ever partially

to know,

and

wonder.

Gowned in simple
black, the Japanese

pianist
plays

Beethoven’s
“Moonlight Sonata”

to the Kölner audience

as an encore

to the beginning

of the silence

wherein

we

find

the sustenance

to continue this.

One more layer
of brushstroke

won’t

kill

what

is rising.

Sirius Doesn’t Know Either

Sirius doesn’t know either
who I am tonight, or will
be

tomorrow. I could lose

my face in the mirror

of acceptance

or disgrace.

Let’s get coffee, sometime
and exchange ideas
or just

gape

blankly

at the nothingness
surrounding
the

visible, we
can’t

possibly
expect to fill
with our meaning.

Crocuses come, and

save

us.

When She Heard the Elevator

When she heard the elevator
ding, she stopped chopping
a red onion, and listened
to the footsteps in the
hall.

As the invisible
stranger
faded

into
closer,
she realized

it was Brenda,
her nextdoor
neighbor.

She continued chopping
the onion until there
was enough

for
her

salad, and put
the remainder

back

in the fridge.

Not Because I Have

Not because I have

to genuflect

to

shy

or calibrate my

blue; I sidle

up

to you

not because I

have

to

deviate from sky
or fantasize
a why.

I want

to go awry

with you, pretending

new. Can’t we

be
untrue

to the edict

of goodbye?

I

mumble

in the pew,

not because I have to

genuflect; or

die.

I Wish You

I wish you
could live

for

instants,

charge the bull

to the hereafter

account,

an

unlimited

misce-generation.

This is confusing
only because
we

lack

adequate

thunderstorms

in the fist of our

knowledge

ream.

So what

if

lisping

is a style

after the wind;

see to

it.

There’s Only a Door

There’s only a door
to the whatever

is
next

beginning

with a darkclad

imagination, on the pale.

2nd Avenue between
Union and University

is

gilt

with street

illumination at 2am.

I don’t exist
or a paycheck

increase,

one or the other.

Slam the body
of your taught
expectations

with
hardly

a relief,

angle of belief.

Say

no

more,

a goodbye.