Selections From
LET'S SWING FROM THAT
BUTTERFLY DOORSTEP
April 1989 to July 1989
FLASH! LIGHT!
Thunder crashes
with a burst of light
outside the window,
a crack, a boom!
And the lights go out.
I sit in darkness at
the typewriter.
I reach for a flashlight
to keep poeming in the open book.
Just before I click it on...
The lights blink up and
surge life to the house.
This is good because
I was
starting to sense that
closet doors were opening,
and skeletons were stepping out...
The lights keep blinking
off and on,
as though some
colossal battle between
good and evil is raging
in the giant thundercloud
above our house.
Good flashes a mighty electrical sword.
Evil thunders back in dark explosions!
So the good and evil rage,
waging war in every man,
and sometimes the lights go out.
Good thing we
pack a flashlight.
COST OF THE KEEPER
After one hundred
throw-away wordies
you get one good keeper.
and That makes it all
worthwhile.
a million
I have
a million pens
until I need
one.
Trumplett & Pan Handle
Sketches for an upcoming puppet show
Puddles Lay
Puddles lay the street,
like morphic mirrors,
splewn this way and
that,
reflecting the dark
fronts of houses
and the grey-whites
of sky.
Paths of wet gravel
frame these lakes,
like concrete cartography,
stenciled numbers
line the curb,
and
dewdrops
hang poised, glass beads
a-dangle
from the tips
of slender bushes.
AUTOGRAPH
Somewhere in outer space,
a comet climbs,
streakwhite,
upwards through vacuum,
stars, planets and suns,
streakwhite
past galaxies,
a sheer stroke of fine white
particle spray,
two million miles long:
a feather
as big as the Universe:
encircling all, precise, diffused, awash
in the wake of time and reality.
Is this my LORD
signing the first
letter of His
autograph?
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