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Monday, January 04, 2010

simple songs

I cannot breathe nor run with this less language.

Angela Carr, The Rose Concordance

the moon is self-contained

it says nothing about the rest of us


, between these condos

& financial buildings


try to listen as your lines expand


what is it Marcus said about one hundred

& twenty syllables?


snow patterns over worth


time is what happens so

not everything happens at once


at least one theory; another,

all time happens


at the same; a simple passage,


standing at the window, distracted

pulls down Christmas lights


Lainna naked, humming

a small tune


the cartilage of warmth

, soft along the junction


the moon wanes strumpet

plunges as it misses


hanging down around the

knees, that dare not speak


Lady Godiva, redirects


when the ends of the earth

is the opposite shore


wind catches sails our hair

& these artificial flowers

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