Book o’ Verse

His pals don’t need much, ya see.
They wear snappy hats. Elbow each other
at the sight of something, hey!
Hey look at that snappy hat!
All they want is a patch of dirt
to trash. To take off their hats.
To scrum.
They’ve got cleats, ya see. Underneath
them fancy pants. And
cleats
beget
traction.

I had two foods from my childhood tonight and
the sugar cube was a complete let down.
All promise, stacked high
in that
crystalline stack and then
collapsed like a wet meringue.
Blech. A mouth full of undifferentiated
former-cube fragments, trying to
escape each other and
nowhere good
to go.

Trying to find a place that’s not shaded.
Damn trees everywhere.
I just need one spot where
my skin can make contact with the sun.
Light is part of the sun, did you know that?
It’s not an offshoot or something sparkly
the sun shakes loose like
water from a dog.
It’s more like actual dog parts.
Our share of cosmic dog parts, sprinkled down.
This planet is covered in dog.
That’s the truth.
Some of that dog gets tangled in the trees.
Some gets tripped up by clouds.
And what I need right now is
a clear spot to lie down.
Soak in
the living dog.

You say I’m a snake but snakes
move with purpose, right?
They lead with their head. Reach
with their mouth. Draw a
dry belly line with an impulse dotting
each turn.
Have you ever seen a snake tumble? Or trip? Or twist?
Not a snake.

Saw real bikers tonight.
Four bikers, they lined up
side by side across both lanes with
their leather jackets. Comfortable, warm.
Cocooned in that roar that they
made together.

i dreamt i adopted
a dog without a body or a head
and we went fishing.
afterwards, while I was
untangling the line,
a nice lady came up to see how
my dog and i were doing.
“his tail isn’t wagging much,” she said.
“i don’t think he’s ok.”

revisiting old poetry books
finding bits that didn’t
spark for me
before but
are some how sparking for me
now. These words are
ripening.

Words are? Holy water
runs through you? Maybe?
Clouds then? Cameras? And the way they
stop things? Guitar holes?
A place where music gathers?
Words are. Holy water.

I saw you watching when I got up
and I want to reassure you,
it’s not you, it’s me. It’s not the way
you were snapping your fingers. Or how
loudly you were breathing. Sure,
I don’t like your shirt. But
there are lots of shirts
here I don’t like.
Look at that guy, for example.
No, this is about me.
And the choices I’ve made.
The potatoes I had last night, for example.

waiting on line
in my mind. everybody
cutting and they
don’t even know it and hey
I was here. getting coffee
and a scone but
also waiting.