GARDENSONG

i was not sure
if it was either 

a magpies or jackdaws
but the black feather 

i found on sunday

& picked right up

& tucked neatly into 

my wide brimmed hat

because of any minute
reality / might / can / will

kick in the door
& pick me up

easy as mashed potatoes
or ham on rye

CAFESONG

 

i halved my dosage

in blind optimism

hoping for the reward 

of time served

instead i was sentenced 

to weird translucence 

no verses between me 

& the thin chorus 

of an xray sun

WRITING M.O. & DALI LAND

i write them

& rewrite them

& backtrack for backbone

& slip sideways

& jump north

& backtrack for clarity

& go blank 

& open doors

& wear a hat

& conjure dali land 

until i cant

not at all

& thats now

MEMORIAL BURN

charred card

    from her memorial burn

blows about

    the heat wave garden

~

its goodbye

    if goodbye is goodbye

in fire

   

    & wine & cigs

FLOP SWEAT NIMBUS

i woke up 

in flop sweat

suddenly very concerned

if many voicemails

i ever left

still rest on old tapes 

in junk drawer thickets
or lurk like spiders
saved in user accounts
in the ethernet nimbus