All Fears All Doubts and Even Dreams

Being with you is like making a poem it’s pure

Verb doing and being the same thing let

Be be finale of O let’s just dance tonight!

Being with you is writing a poem it’s like

An Airborne operation like just before a jump

Stand up hook up sound off for equipment check!

All okay jump master! Leaning in the open door

The jump light red the aircraft too loud for soft

Voices five minutes two minutes one minute

Thirty seconds and the light goes green and

I’m out the door knees in the breeze ass over end

Pure verb doing not being doing what my body

Decides falling into darkness and the moon

Between the toes of my boots and then

A Great Accidental Marvelous Happening

Then the parallel world falls into sync and you

Assuage day with your blue eyes inscrutable

Questions I have yet to ask I suppose it’s just

The happiest moment in infinity because

Something maybe dancing with you might

Be remarkably fun not like exercise but yes we

Sweat and then in Waukegan we share who

Knows what quite possibly we’ll hear about it

Some blog or online newspaper will tell us

Who we are and what we do but for now

We lie on a cold but charming beach 

And read silently to each other the story we

Have yet to write our eyes the color of

Worrying rent already paid nothing in the bank

Poem

Walking the line of propriety where memory fails

The plan I made takes on air and

And I had a dream about you last night!

We sing from one great silence

Pleasure's woe beginning

When to the silent generosities

Amidst a rather tendentious dream in which

The angry hands of God

For us all the sepulchers hush

If we ever make it back to California

As aspiration and regret

No matter that my all is here

O if we but knew what we do

Hope is twelve hours down the road

But how can we care if anybody gets it?

How we fly in quiet mouths

The submerged temples

Yetbutaswell

Behind where where was a where was a place?

And have given us a soul

We sleep in a temple all the gods avoid

The subject is reciprocal

It is almost

Walking the Line of Propriety Where Memory Fails

Watch it go this disgraceful swindling day

See how anonymous hours become a brass plate

Affixed to the front gate like an historic marker

For what? Ha! Because time acts this way we wrap

The seed of the word-soul in our eternal flag singing

Evening star full of melodramatic panting when

Are we coming back? Perhaps we’ll return when

The old suburb contemplates the little whining gods

Who sleep dissolute in antebellum bedrooms

Maybe we’ll find ourselves here again in pursuit

Of life without respite two savage detectives

Flat-footing down this dark street skirting pools

Of yellow light O see how we refuse even 

To decipher inscriptions on those brass plates

The Plan I Made Takes on Air And

The right temple of my reading glasses comes  

Loose and I discover my wounded glasses

Take a secret name every Sunday night

My glasses assume a hidden word regardless

That I close my eyes in shadows and holler

Until frost beards the windows in May I still

Can’t understand the sound can’t say

Exactly what letters form that proper noun

Tiny as the screw that holds the arm to its hinge

My glasses tell me they can’t stand the day

Called Monday which they say stinks

Of vinegar and is all full of those terrible holes

Reading bare-eyed gives me a headache

All those words passing through my forehead

And I Had a Dream About You Last Night!

The dream wasn't scary we were just hanging out

In a sagging antebellum mansion somewhere

Out the window was a beautiful overgrown garden

And some of your friends pulled up in a truck

And we raised several kinds of hell after that

I imagine but I woke up too soon to enjoy it

The thing is I never did wake up and your friends

They flew out of the pickup like infallible pigeons

Who knew exactly what they were up to and why

They were there and their wings turned all

The pages you and I have yet to write ten thousand

Is too small a number their wings beat so rapidly

Savage garden conspired against hateful house

Darkness spoke secret languages behind curtains