i lie the locust, a villanelle 11-30-16

aka “abstraction is difficult and I haven’t written a poem in over a year”

i lie the locust in the honey tree
sip slow and sweetly soft the summer dew
i fly throughout your flowers honeybee
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Frog song

Fast flowers the rain.
listen: bite my tongue
rain beating down the dust
we learn to tell frogs from flowers.
Here: the rain
the dust on my tongue
the frogs we sing of.
We sing of this too: the rain
biting the flowers.
The frogs sing the rain.
We put flowers on our tongues and sing.

Dream Cycle 1

I dreamed I wrote this poem.
I dreamed my way down the grassy twisted path to where the water lapped against the edges of the graves.
I dreamed my name on all the headstones.

In my dream you gave me your heart in a jar to keep.
In my dream I broke it.
In my dream there was a light just around the corner of the path
And there was broken glass just around the corner of the path
And your heart rolled down past the headstones into the water

And when it hit it didn’t splash.


My Life as a Grasshopper

We are cold in the mist
We eat damp gems against the vapors
Our legs are our worship.

As we come into the season of rot
We conjure misty delusions beyond the clouds
And sleep.
We dream our wings.

We confound tiny demons behind the light
We dance humming forest the unleafing legs
We smear brilliant fragments among the dream.

Stop for a while
Dark and quiet beside the fog
Different smallness to our green blood.


learning to read

D is for Dan.
She told him
to go out trusting
the wild things.

He trusted the one real thing
that wasn’t wild.
Look where it got him

Sometimes the pictures in a book

are just pictures.


You no I

danced my deaths forever left away
since flowers unwind without sun
and your only is enough to be afraid.
are all it takes to happen dark and lonely;
one dream is the choral nightmare of alone
and the other humming foxtrot of without.