(1)
I stand empty
beside the armor
shadows flinch
They close
around us
I stand back
and blink-reappear
farther back
I break into a sweat
It glows and I wave
back to my dead
(2)
We natives are royals
Yet phantoms
The edges emblazoned, clear
From fingertip to foot
Seattle is empty and surrounded
The sun beheaded or
Am I a marked man?
I will sing to skin the shadows
Till they feel worn
And pointed (rocking)
Bothered by the wind
A new measure is blown open
Threatening---threading the room.
I listen (painfully close)
Beyond the heightened fear
of recapture
I take a long cold shower
before I dress…..
Sing the diamond to my crown
Creep farther out of town
A tangle of fog and bloodied
Dust-motes landed
Loud laughter in the dark
(3)
I thought back on my birthday
our wandering the downtown together
the strings were in tune
played and passed
like a maiden into heaven
Elevators work their way up the sky
a jet thrashed in lightening
Hi, Nice to see you, I have no light
whiskey neat in my glass
The man at the bar is set and straight (no question)
It’s a filthy night under the bare bulbs
my whole body
jerks left
right
(4)
I teach occasional
overnight
courses
Kickball with Demons,
Jet Set Contours and
Comprehension
How to Stalk the Police
down your own Streets
or speaking on exactly
how my voice
got to sound
so shot
so high
how the goddess
retreads nightly
with all
approach notes
and neighboring
slack
pricked of
the torture & crystal
gardens
wherein I dreamt I could drive
and I did
figure eights
the light streamed
opposite
orange gasses
swarming off both
sides
I kept
an eye out
for Indians also
(always) first trace
of sunrise
3
planks
cross-cut red
key missing
the left
hand stumbles
close to home, stuck
& strained to
wander
in the tip
and bite of the light
I staple in
more smoke
and a bit
later on
illusion
a torn
& bloodied crest
oh and bodies
floated up
near the corners
overnight
It was never
words themselves
but the instant
they took up
as marked
as reset
(5)
Pure black
steeple
steadier than
my blade
man
in robes
mushroom shrinks
hands are
clasped
the middle
part
of a ribbon
snake
flashed
rabbits foot
necklace
tiny gun
& barons crest
Tahitian dancer
in mid-wave
doll
frozen there
seal of
the templar
hand
held out
to beckon
beyond
the lock
in the screen
a bag
of bones
leaning
stabs
the flag
onto
stolen islands
Archbishops
garden of
headgear
white where
black should be
silver
Buddha
steam leaving
in a huff
from behind
his head
jet
in a nose dive
so close up
my phone
bleeds harder
than a brick
broken cross
(6)
A carriage cuts
through Red River Valley
down Vail’s gate
round Highland
Falls
much of my time
is taken up
on the way
to various readings
hours spent
holding my gun
and set
list delirious
I need not shoot
till its sundown
and pointed
language trapped
at well worn angles
need not be read
aloud
to cut away from
to add a two lane
bridge
or patch of fire
We pick out which
of the lines are hooks
steer clear
of all else
keep the one
foot nailed and
fucking up
the stone floor
slashing verse
in nail-posh
out of boredom
or near bankruptcy
It’s all cleared up later
as you are found
starving, still
handsome
a body stuck
behind the
living room
door
(7)
We are shrinking stars
in relation to the altar
Push your hand
through the holes
a giant violet bank of clouds
The edge on the moon speaks
all the way around