First Poem Of The Year – 2006


Lately I have been feeling as if the orbits of soldiers have dragged me into a swollen mine where my dreams are left to mold and tingle in what’s left of me. My body slowly fades perhaps trying to escape the war and find quiet in a cave. I see myself through a telescope perverse and undetermined to rest, falling out of synch with the drummers who line the streets waiting for the waves. The roads are tangled and the children play in salt mines with bombs and gold holding their breath. The pedals of pianos are spotted and chipping, my name is called out to me and it recharges my heart. I could do this forever with or without love, but it’s harder when it’s easier to find the poison that makes you real, and converting lithium from love has never been discussed.
Trim the glass between your dreams and expect to find what you left behind. While your flying with the circus the ocean opens up for you.