behold the statue

mediterranean garden terraces
boil over with streams of ivy;
the natives say the hand that feeds
is bitten by lust and loss

midnight hangs like a curtain
licked by flames of torches bright;
a girl with exotic eyes turns
into a column of smoke and sky

behold the statue!
yours is a delicate thing;
mine, a ton of stone

below us, the sea taps out
a pattern
never to be repeated

***

Dark Matter Lives

Dark matter lives

in the presence of

               the light

Oceans of time

curl and unfurl

in theory

alone

 

Meanwhile a wind

howls on the plains

               flickering

A spark from

a star falls

imploring

a pulse

 

Worlds bloom and wilt

while a weary star

               grows dim

and your life

collapses into

a singular

point

Echo

Draw breath from

A self contained

Breathing apparatus

Filled with the cosmos

.

Exhume an

Echo; it returns

Slower and quieter

Than when it was young

.

Black water

Sick and viscous

Swallows tangerine flames

While the tower burns

.

Willing eyes

Looking skyward

Glimpse that which cannot be

Explained by pure science

Time And A River

obelisks sharply rise

punctuate the landscape

like monuments to

moments of impact

 

and between those

stretch vast expanses

some bone dry

some swirling, unfolding

parabolic mists

and quiet prayer

 

as the snail needs

the spiral of the shell

so too the valley

needs both time

and a river

not stopping

until the world

is black marble

An Accident On-set at Sesame Street

it happened so fast

the moan of twisting steel,

a lighting rig tumbling

back to earth

lost one immediately –

that’s for sure –

poor fucker

probably didn’t feel a thing

the other left a trail

.

   .

      .

later we followed it

and found it

musta dragged itself, drunk with pain and panic

behind some cardboard boxes

blue fur matted with dark dry blood

not moving or breathing,

twisted up

ah the glamour of show biz