May 3, 2012

poem 148 of a poem a day for 2012

hoping for a high efficiency humanity under a perigee Moon

used to be water was a cradle everywhere
we could find faith in the marsh tides
in the reeds, in ourselves when we bleed
but these days, with population a scourge
the rain is urged in the carve of blast sand
and the certainty of hollowness where
our holiness is how we are settling for less
ringing bells on corners with kettles
to bless us with pocket change and crumbs

the bone paraded harmonies of technology
can drain the reach of clouds grounding the electricity
into our roots, we are just like trees
in the ways we shed ourselves for the Sun
climbing vines to station the crossroads
with narrowed choices for fitting in between
the cracks of concrete and the rich loam
beneath our footprints

choices seem to be made
tossing a two-headed coin of Damocles
do what we please, not knowing
the ease of chanced free

so I choose tails every time

it's not just because I love
the nurturing shape
and feel of the way
a woman's ass blooms desire in me
no, it's because
even though two heads are better than one
I just want to saddle-ride in style
past the steel and glass neon world
tumbling fast with the kelp sway rhythm of wind
past how at last I slow down when singing
one moment holding hope for a forever
when I am moaning your name
in the grass looking to climb
your Moon too


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