dancing with the master

look
look at this this
petri dish. here are stem cells
replicated
as heart cells. look. the heart cells
are beating. the cells do not
know the difference. they think
they are hearts.

look at this
soap dish. soap lying in bubbles
left over from the last
time. no germicide here. soap is
as soap does. think of it
like this:
without germs who would need soap.

look at this road. a road that once
led to the town of rocky mount. see? here is how
the road ends now. in weeds. see this
interstate it thinks
it leads to greensboro and burlington but it ends
upside down two dead one critical.

look at this woman i love
concerned that
i will not love her body. see her courage.
see? here she has given me photos
of the body too.

look. see this painting of a roman aqueduct.
beneath one of the arches
a group of peasants are gathered to sing. they sing to their god,
who is not a roman at all
but a blond alien who will someday return
to take them home.

look at this movie
about how they made this movie.
here are scenes
they took out so they could put them in
the movie about the making
of this movie.

look at this woman
dying here. see the light in her
eyes. see an older woman
come in to stand by the bed. listen as she
sings amazing grace. here, watch
the light disappear.

look at this book of contemporary
poems. see how i flip through them searching.
for what? for the signs of heart
cells beating. stem cells do not replicate
into irony cells. irony cells
replicate themselves. endlessly.

look. here is the church here
are the people here
are pigeon shit deposits on the base
of the steeple
like a scrim haze between
the granite parapet
and the walls of heaven. see?

look here: this sunflower has caught
on in a gravel drive
and now cannot stand alone for it has no
nutrients to sustain it. see how
the flower does not mind. the flower blooms,
as the trunk bends over
to die.

look at this, my ancient body. see the scars. some
of the scars are gifts
from those i’ve known. some i got from strangers
who had
scars enough to loan.

see this heart trembling. touch the wall. feel how the
blood rushes through
the stent. put your ear up close. hear how
it sounds like a waterfall. listen
to the full voice
singing within of love, love, naught but love

--j lineberger.
sorry jim, for taking it but no one we know comes here
















*

















sigh

jesus, what is the matter with me?
spent the morning on lava. talking to all stripes
of men. waiting. waiting.

diversionary tactix.
i really want to see him so bad.
it surprises me this depth of need
for something i swore i would not let myself need.

here is it cropping up
crapping up
again.

and you know when in the midst of it
how exasperating
when in the mix of it
how even enervating.
slow estivation into dessication

he messes me up.
i want to let it ghost.
look to somewhere else
for filling. file it away
"tired, tried".

there is no cave. plato was wrong
the loving arms of the goddess
wrap you in guazy dreams
then strangle you awake icarus.
all the old platitudes come back
to comfort me. i spit on them.
it does no good. chemicals ,
courses, cirius clouds. this too
shall fucking pass. that's sposed to be
a comfort? i tapdance a morse code
on the grave she gave to katrina. blues
bayous and the living i'd trade
for me not to be a junkie today.
i 10 looks good to me now.
a kerchief filled with nothing on my back.