tonight, up there

2.

have you felt that the sun, the
great earthwarmer itself (oh, but think about
what is has helplessly endured! the trans-
formation of nations that once had no
bones or landmines 'neath their soils, blood
daggers digging through the roots of all
innocent.

the curses and ignorance of little
ants with different colored faces and
hair, keeping them warm without speech. the
staggering loss of hope brought by the
icebergs and glaciers--water was
meant to flow pristinely.

and of course, the loneliness. even if
we wanted to kiss the sun, to show
it our tears, to explain that humankind
is worth saving...)

has the patience of
a million sages?

tonight, up there

1.

have you felt that out
in november in the early morning
when you have been warming green
things with a bic, out there wearing
a sweater and jeans in the
sink and shrill autumn, shivering
not because you are cold, noticing
every single seventy six leaves
casting down to the ground, murmuring
to the squirrels and the nightcrawlers
that do not mind the temperature

(as if you were a word on the lips
of earth touching her somewhere at each
second and she touching you, as if
the earth said to you i have breathed
you falling out my mouth in vapor i love
you and now you have inhaled me the
crystal tendrils of me now hang from my
limbs until the old man winter comes
to drag you down,

as if there were
seventy seven leaves)?

2.

continued...

VI. Our respiration
keeps us strong for each other
keeps us together

VII. When I hold my breath
my body cries out to me:
why'd you betray me?

VIII. Could not bear the stench
livid chemicals and shit
hold it, hold it, hold

IX. Nostril to nostril
breath to breath and hand to hand
stand up, counterparts

X. In the air it feels
like the sun has given up
so grab some blankets

1.

Ten haikus on breathing. Go.

I. Inhale angel breath
wingtips tickle my nostrils
resuscitate me


II. Because today's air
smells of lemon redemption
we could use rebirth


III. Souvenir from space
never able to go there
never able to


IV. Involuntary
brain thinks for my benefit
repay it with beer

V. Because I believe
you breathe the same air with me
I'm life, volatile

4.

checked the back door.
checked the front.
dead
bolt.

this is the mantra:
namaste namaste namaste namaste.

chin lift throat catch,
the friendliness of silence.

fingers trickle, lung heavy,
gargantuan cats all of them black
sifting into a realm i call bedroom.
where i was is not where i am.

the wintry brevity.
the slowly turning wheels
of Pharoah's army. behind me
a feline snickers and moses splits a sea.

i recognize you God, there in
the bathroom mirror.

3.

I have incriminated myself
I need an out-of-body experience
to shed my snakeskin to sprinkle sawdust
suck it up in a transparent
vacuum

so everyone can see it.

My putrid tornado of wasted energy
laced with sweaty headaches &
a Holy Bible opened to
some page in
Exodus

Exodus(t)

not even
cold air
feels good
right now

2.

about those rotten pears i
lathered them into my hair when i finally did
(yes i did) take a shower and now
everyone has been asking me what
sort of products i use and i can only say
sadly

the shit of flies the pungent
rotten flesh of fruit long gone the
choking pesticides and

on my hands the dust of dead cells the
sticky cannabis stuff the semen
from last night when i masturbated
and couldn't find my way to the
thunderstorm outside and the
dry and coagulated blood of christ
that i have always kept in my fingerprints