sweet sop

winish tears drop
teardrops of wine stop
when plopped on paper
naturally. I opt not to
tissuemop so as not to
disturb my accidental
purple plop of sweet sop.
a lop off my heart
is every single sorry drop.
I am simple, atop.

pieces

heaven I don't know
heaven has no end - yet - 
unsuccourable earth's sole pageant contends


friend! you are mine
you stranger to reality. to me -
your facedown fluency is a circadian constancy


- wheatbread makes you ever unwell
telephones - or - anything telephonish
is as strange as wooden nightness


we gather estrangements in paltry pieces
hoping sensitive sunlights and peaceful spirits
will remind us - some reality and some heaven - 

crown

the crown clinks alone
slandering silently in historical solitude


uncompromising eloquence kindred
possibly, to something pure


swishing your resplendent alcohol
thinking - likely - cerebrally sneaking


your whiskeyed words wash over
like whiskeyed ocean winds


burning sand in my eyes and vision
the Monarch of the Sea branding the insides of me


your crown clinks alone
slandering with stubborn aptitude

soda

you lipstick stops
to watch my never-ending
soda-pop


we don't call it that
in the South
nor do we knock


we open the mouth
for sweet facades
to fall out


just like soda
and its silent, smirking
sugar quota


Southern Grotesques
in gross
bustlebop


thank you,
for the lovely company
and cold drink

Auden:

Nocturne II


Make this night loveable,
Moon, and with eye single
Looking down from up there,
Bless me, One especial
And friends everywhere.


With a cloudless brightness
Surround our absences;
Innocent be our sleeps,
Watched by great still spaces,
White hills, glittering deeps.


Parted by circumstance,
Grant each your indulgence
That we may meet in dreams
For talk, for dalliance,
By warm hearths, by cool streams.


Shine lest tonight any,
In the dark suddenly,
Wake alone in a bed
To hear his own fury
Wishing his love were dead.

by Tomaž Šalamun

Academy of American Poets

Muldoon says Heaney is like the Vasa

ship. Built on three floors,

it was the world's biggest battleship.

It made half a mile

and capsized alone in  harbor.

The warriors are killed by insects

and lack of glycerine.

Scurvy corrodes their skulls.

Spruce trees shake off their seed and snow.

Between Zlatorog and the Savica waterfall

their is no hoarfrost.

deep dark moon

something twirled - rather carelessly - through my hair,
fixedly - into my ear, reminding me disparately of life
and forced the thoughts "where" and "who."
though unlistening, and because I am "here"
tell me why you are so typically distant blue


                         -  pause  -


still, please, forgive me, friend
I (sigh) am listening now. Listen - 
Ladybugs glisten and blue jays sin
but I would rather not blend.
I am lost and I will sing.
An heiress of yellow under
your transparent wing and life
in thorough lines will glisten.
Death, like sidewalks, we will
lipstick, and Home,
we will christen.


                        -  pause  -


your lips - with confidence - never shutter
always a breath distinctly blue
your inner beauty is my deep dark moon
and in time, our (perfect) loneliness will conquer death.

Swimming Constellations

Swimming constellations simmer
or - shimmmer
like, well - 
a mirror
facing the sun
through the water
through the wetness
of your almost-eyes


You blanklessly stumble
or - tumble
into, well -
me, and my space
and I wonder
what that implies

That Look

Your songs wing soap
every light dims to glow
fossils breathe dust
your songs feather breeze
I will be fossiled
deep under crust
your songs listenthrust

Instead

My colours -
    "paralyzed by emptiness"
could have been yours.

Instead
    the ocean will remain blue
and "emptiness will be free"