April 10, 2011

flurry scurry poems in a hurry running rabbit oh star a wandering fertility dark quickly gathered catching up catching hold napowrimo 8 tolled for the bell is keeping the spigot open long toiled buried in soil a day unravels in beats and measures sometimes trash sometimes treasures..nameste






caged to the mechanical



newton may have articulated gravity
with motion in a three-way
without mention of intention
save the pre-ordained
the preternatural
the premonitional skins
night wears
whispering dares
to wake up the cold before
all that snares me
knows I've wobbled back
an apple black see

seeds at once
are just my long fingers
my thoughts that have run since
I always wait on the loam
and work whatever pays for
poems madly poured home
lorded, horded as some
like I might squeeze
what grows fallen
swollen inside me

tall quiet vines climb
unseen waiting 
faster spinning clay
waiting to rust and decay
waiting on moleules and their bind
one moment fermented tined

to the next
mouths rest
bless metals before
giving up the eyes
to inherit what the the wind
salts against any reeded cradle
finding the beauty ladled

from where water
has already been

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