The Wolf Comes Calling

You were free from sin from the start

a blank page hung out to dry,

The words will come, it’s only just begun

They tell you what, not why

 

Time to do, time to see

time goes on forevermore,

For now you’re just a young man

sweeping up an old man’s floor

Go off into the wild

of the city, paved and unforgiving,

Curse the cold, the heat, the sky

The damned walk among the living

 

White is black, day is night

neither is either/or,

And now you’re still a young man

fighting in an old man’s war

The sun sinks low and twilight lets

the shadows come out to call,

A rustle in the woods? you wonder

Perhaps my ears play tricks after all

 

But then the feeling comes creeping

it’s one you’ve felt before,

And now see you’re an old man

with a young wolf waiting at your door

Doubt

There’s no happily

ever after;

Just hours of drawn

out tedium

Stretched like solstice shadows,

Swallowed screams muted

Muffled by pillows,

And rusty shackles

Emblazoned with

A single

word

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

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