Easy Street Gallery
Thin Within
Two sisters,
one thin, one thick,
one dark, one light,
dance together.
Within, without,
around about,
they glide, they leap
in time, in rhythm
to their bodies' flow.
In the Woods
Midway through my long journey home
I found myself surrounded
by the trees, the leaves, the vines,
and the branches of a forest
turning, tangled, and twisted.
I knew not where I was,
but I was not lost.
I know this storm, this green
and glowing vortex.
These woods are no harbor,
no port from the storm outside,
but they are a home
to me and to
my serpent friends.
Sephira
Nine is the atomic number
of silence and of
dust under sofas.
It is also a measure
of the interval between things
you come across
while looking for something else.
Beethoven and Mahler
each completed nine symphonies
before striking that final chord.
I painted nine glowing spheres
on a flat surface, and
"Voila!"
Life Still
Every day like all the others.
The sun eating the flowers
in the fields. The man on his bicycle
sailing to China. I want to
leave it all behind,
wrapped up in a bundle on the blue
chair, but I find myself being drawn,
like water from a well,
like a vase of flowers,
and I stay where I am.
This is where I live my life.
Still.
Kiss
Whose lips are these
that float so near to
my nude and waiting shoulder?
Could their kiss taste
as sweet as mine?
Would their touch bring
a shudder to my cells?
What signals could they send
down my shivering spine?
The look in my eyes may be demure,
but my thoughts are far from pure.
Tell
There can be no secrets
when I'm around.
I see you thinking
how smart you are
to hide your thoughts from me.
I've thought those thoughts, too.
I've felt that fear
you try to disguise as desire,
but I see what you don't want me to,
and I tell tales that you don't want to hear.
The Pandus
Through the golden triangle
the flowers of evil flow.
From this mundane, imperfect world
to another, more perfect one we go.
"The Pandus" reads a marker
high up in Khyber Pass,
but the fruit we seek
to ease our pain lies hidden in tall grass.
Rrose Selavy HOOQ
Et tu?
Est-ce que tu as
chaud au cul?
Pour Marcel et Rrose,
comment la Giaconda,
le sourire,
c'est tout.
LHOOQ