illumned adriftness

a piece of fluff balanced
on a stalk. clinging.


the wind comes
the wind goes

once i rode the train
that led to your door.

no more. linearity confuses
the river. straightjacket bargaining

with a picket fence.
the river flows.














&








i'm thinking maybe
i'll get to work close
to the time i'm scheduled.

i'm thinking maybe
work can substitute for you
since you seem to be vacationing

in the south of france or atop some
tiny stalk, maybe snagged
in the britches of a blonde

cousin, say, infatuation
with the next ex
who will bring you closer

to the soil in which you'll
rest. budapest was a factory
for puns, so you move on.























*(&&&&














it's christmas. ring a ding.
bake the cookies, make them sing.
when i was young i taught
my daughter that santa was the giving

so she could believe as long as
she wanted. my son was born
knowing surface, inherent truths.
it was a struggle watching him

before he could find words. he
never sat in santa's lap
without crying at the fraud but
he'd sit in mine, demanding

the gift i couldn't give before
its time. now he fondles mathematics
with his mind, teases want with will
stands on a precipice of lime.































*()&&&





what would you have me say to you
love
passion
reason for living
?




we live anyway.
reason is a monkey
embracing god's raiment
if god needed clothes like she did
in that movie where a child singer
plays her. i'd kiss that girl
if i ever met her. instead i buy
her music. sweet. poet.u