LAUNDRY VOLCANO

the past 
is
ten days of laundry
sluggish on the carousel
in
the
5 AM
departure hall

~

the past
is 
a 
volcano of gone faces
and
bargain basement red letter days
    p
  u   t
 r      i
e         n
           g 
like photoshop thumbnail confetti

when
you
thought
it
was
a
solid mountain base
you were reclining on

feet up 
book and a brew

~

and these Days 
They hurtle 
thrown thru the prism 
of the Vanishing Now
with anything from laziness
to outright rage

~

and i wonder why
and i wonder how 
and i wonder if
it
would 
be 
disrespectful
to
that sepia flotsam collage

to clear it all away forever
like it was writers-strike tv

when
its
that
what
got
me
here

in the 9 AM hinterland
of another tuesday mornings
typing
jag
illusion

from libelium.com

LAYING ON THE LAWN

nature wears

a thousand

soft crowns

all the colours

of a 

spilled oil rainbow

how sad

it cannot see 

its rain and sun attention

a deerhunters deer

boxed in

in the hinterlands

barbecue lawns

MO' POPS

it all comes along in the low clouds

i bang a clumsy frame around it

made of night tide mystery drift wood

and
for guilt  for life  for sane
i
hang
it
on
this cyberspace wall

-

ball
deep 
in the hinterlands
of
the
new
century

in its thawed swamps and dried ditches
in its improvised emergency drainage

my pre-millennial dread
my strange 1999 tension 
when i stood before myself
in the let-down morning 

seems
justified
now

-

the morning
is
teenage bold 
kung fu wise 

it struts
a breach 
of light and letterboxes

and
wastes no time at all
calling out 
the nights
quiet
comfort
fibs

tricky, pre millenial tension

CROUCH IN YOUR OWN BELLIES WHERE THE WEATHER IS REAL

  this 
  soap opera life
we
are
always 
trying
to 
solve
  is an artists impression
  of
  hasty 
  focus
  
an
  unfinished / unreal pastel scene 
of
pencil shadow
and
dense crosshatching that thins out
  into
  a
white page hinterland

  empty

 from realpointitaly.com