The Train Sits in the Station

Time stuck in his
throat
these things never
happened.

Expedition and
the abduction of
Medea-
they would appear
to be enemies,
that that crown
was the same
crown and always
was.

a river- a creature
of Apollo one can
gather from is that
they were new gods now
that men realized
with perfection-
the way he or she
asked “is a woman
a woman?”

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Trading Zeros in The Dark

End of the day glass is what is made
From all the leftovers
Of a day of glass
Blowing- it usually takes the form
Of a swan, and these were usually
Given away at gas stations in the
Sixties- the old man at the antique junk
Shop taught me all this when I stopped in
To buy you an abstract piece
Of end of the day glass.

I cannot help but think of the old
Buddhist saying- If you meet the
Buddha on the road kill him- and
Not that I still have an idea what it really all means.

Talking of the living heart of God,
And an unread book of carols of love
Sitting somewhere not being read by me-
John chapter one is also mentioned as
The conversation turns to pens, and
Again we are trading zeros in the
Dark- magical partings of trees
In the woods so that the train
Can be seen. Crosses hanging
Around necks, floating in space
Emblazoned with different symbols
Of their time on a sphere spinning
Disco round celestial dancing waves
As Vishnu sleeps- inhaling the last of
Spring from red mum blossoms blooming.

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The Trucks of Concsious Harmony

The how is
everywhere invisible-
the stillness-
I re-enter the
surf.

Utter incompetence
crowded my eyes-
I knew it-
secret bugle calls!
Oh the beat?

A couple walking
over the pages
near that
same light and a
preacher’s hair
combed over his eyes.

I hear your baby talk
swinging in the air
fireworks in
the spring sky-
a momentary tenderness-
candid shots reveal
digging in the dirt
with my nephew for
these verses and
pennies.

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Dream Ancestors

What did you want
to say
to us?

Reverberating
at the end of the
magician’s long
white scarf.

(The Age of Reason)
a few miles off
the interstate
a man worn down
by time fishing
just caught a
big carp.

Atoms will bring back
the night long
croak, croak
an empty palace
sitting in a
shopping
cart outside
bliss
innocence
keeping the
sky company
forever in
our brains.

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Special Blend
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smoking causes Lung Cancer,
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May Complicate Pregnancy

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rich mellow flavor

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Thousands of Solitudes

With a strange exuberance
falling eyes ducked into a
serious redbrick saloon
dropped neons go
horizontal clinker.

Continue on weird sidewalks
with Cadillac mouthpieces
going thoughtfully
downtown. Night blasting
bop- contemplative history-
dark hours of man
and
complex dignity of
automobiles.

Straight waves
curb alley sax
cool sharp joints
birdlike buildings
flapping going beautiful
insturments writing-
hitching
lovely hordes
and thousands
of solitudes.

Diamond Cutter Blues

Doubt he’ll be back soon
given the three in the a.m.
nothingness spin smoking
cigarettes and disillusioned
bartenders with bottles
waiting full of cheap
yellow gods, and strange
hotel garbage.

Talking and drinking-
phonedrunk-
pencils of ash
knife blades blunted
into sleeping surrender.

Mannequins singing of
sadness lit by famous
hopeless moonlight-
with pockets full of
doubt the hero
dances
flashing footsteps
boots
shoelaces
as he inhales
rivers.