And after we've gone our rounds,
Let's go for tea,
And say not a word,
About you, nor me. 


we danced,
because it was difficult to stand.
we sang,
because it was difficult to listen.
and we loved,
so that all our minds would be full to bursting with other people. 



May all of our goodbyes be in laughter,
And may God grant me the chance to hold your high cheeks,
When we first meet,
When my bones hollow in the wet alone. 



It is an unbelievable beauty,
And the deepest sadness,
It has created me, and it will rend me. 


To all who would be thankful:
Look around.
You cannot explain why any of this has come about,
Yet here you are.

Love in the interim, Love before you learn your own name. 

22:00 prayer

What in the world is this
movement, am I king of the heavens
of pavement, rubble and lovers
torn from their mothers to seek another's breast
Help us O we Insufficient Fallen
to beat the life out of our beds
and awake in fullest canopy. 



Meet me,
Tell me there is a corner in this room,
In which I can find some sense,
Feel my forehead,
Whisper into my mouth,
How different you are,
How we should go back into the trees,
There are jaguars down here,
That hunt, that kill,
In a corner in this room. 


He came down from the mountains,
Walked through the outskirts,
Walked through the town,
Approached the ocean as he would a lover,
Confident but exposed, appreciative,
He fell to his knees,
Pulled from his breast pocket the tired sheet,
That bore his achievement in this life:
He was richer than God.
He could buy Heaven if he wanted to.
Clumsily he reoriented the paper this way and that,
But he could not make heads or tales of it,
Save for a quickly fading memory of what it meant,
He laid it gently in a tide pool beside,
"Take care of that paper you organisms in there!
I hereby promote you to the top of the pile!"
He backed into the foam,
Spirals adapting and learning of his shins, then his knees,
"You are richer than God now!
You could buy Heaven if you wanted to!" 


Going Out Into

Write me a letter
sweet Love,
detailing the indeterminacies of our progress,
the rhapsodical nature of our talking points,
how you never dreamed we'd leave that blessed sound.
And I will write you back,
With my bones and eyes and hands,
That dreams were meant to be kept separate,
But that we are guaranteed to return,
As gusts of wind, as ourselves.



You tore fitfully
away from smokescreen habits
into a life where there was no one to greet you
O but you did not go back
biting into every pit in every fruit
gnashing of teeth indeed.



Take me far away
(I have taken you far away)

I am lonely here
(You seem lonely.)

But these droves of birds are beautiful
(Sometime you will share with the birds)

No one is sitting beside me
(You are alone.)

No one is sitting on either side of me
(The paint is faded)

I have no wants
(How could you?)

Will I grow old?

It is very beautiful here,

But living is a hard business. 



In the midst of that mission
To broadcast the death of cowardice to the masses
You turned to me in that spaceship and laughed
"We should have waited for it to snow."
And I loved you then.
Each one of my particles has come together to love you now. 


I am forever,
Waking up in the mist and the wet,
Feeling my extensions for the first time,
Dreaming you rough and unfeigned.

Oh the paths I have trodden that I may look upon your face.

The Hail in Birmingham

Cackling soul,
All your wisdom is so much,
Carrion for the undiplomatic coma.

What do you care that we went to the moon anyway?


I could not contain the beauty in all your names
So I spread it out amongst the animals
The flora and the ages in our lives.



Don't let's steal away,
The orchards have secrets enough,
And I have yet to make my most indelible mistakes.


Kissing your forehead,
The taste of summer sweat,
Talk of half-birthday presents,

These things comprise the marrow in my bones now.

steal through the night

Look up
Hush, look up
The creases in the years in her
White nightgown, lantern-leader
Softly over the moss.

We cannot stay,
We must pass on,
Talk of utopias will bore.

The burning cities
The phoenix born
What lies behind the eye.

Follow the laughter and the hope on all our lips,
Drink of the dew,
Look up.



If Heaven and Hell both contain,
All the value judgements they purport to,
Then I am content to stay in the dirt,
And the seeds,
And the wind.

Dictionaries Will Only Carry You So Far

My children will understand the term "adult"
To be a big mixed-up combobulation of flashes of glimpses of different selves,
But one that certainly means continuing to be a child.

Set a Goal

I only want,
to understand who you are tonight,
and we each buy our own drinks.

The Retreat

I am your
fair wanderer impressed
upon pages, under wineglasses
Cohesive like the clots
that suffer the winds in your bloodstream.
I hold fast to this earth
I sit scolded at the bottom of the sea.

I had miscalculated, for Rhode was too much for me.



I will tell stories of you,
To my children, and grandchildren,
Long after you've forgotten.
I will still whisper your name,
When you have left.
I cannot help but associate you
With all the good that has come my way-
You are an immediate dream,
An endless epic.


Your growls,
Your purrs,
Your gasps,
Your slurs,

We'll run this life ragged,
You and I.


Love is the sense I have made from a world with you in it.

Primrose Hill

And my hands clenched the big earth,
The sod too full of water, the grass so fresh,
I cried to the first man who passed by,
"I have traveled so far! I have loved so much!
My dear, my heart is yours, yours, yours,
I merely carry it while I live.
To dust we so return,
And if God made us for such a feat,
I will shake his hand and slap his face!
I will love you regardless!"

I was made for me, and I give this to you. Love is what you cannot help but give, as if the whole world was made to push you to do it. As if everything was in place, waiting for you to get here.


Echo-Love calling Banjo-One-Niner. The outer space is cold. Really pretty out here. Makes me think of Reenie. How're Norbert and Fern? You should come see the time shooting out. Man, ain't that something. With open arms. Ciao.


Woods and Ferns

I am slowly disappearing into the golden mist of what I think should be.


It's alright,
I see you in everything,
You are every empty mile,
And I have loved you over all of them.


Under cover of night
Panthers and foxes we
Marry and divorce,
Trail off into wisps
Ever to be gathered around the lantern of the nightwatchman
Prepared for Sunday service.

I Cannot Thank You Enough

The ache in my bones,
The future in my eyes,
The pressing forward,
The laughter that makes us shake and shake and shake in the grass.



Hands close once more upon the rope, upon the handle
Knotted forearm muscles spell age,
Like tree rings.

How the eye changes with sight,
How the spirit rallies the body,
How the mantras tick over in our hearts.


Hideaway, Revelation

Under the laurels,
I planted my soul,
And I went into the world.

Someday I will climb back there,
Dispatched and over,
Or I will have one of my children fetch it.

And I will again speak to the sky for comfort,
And ask the plates about divorce,
I will be ready for their answers.

Slowly my track will become lighter,
And my bones hollower,
Until with the full laughter of my life,
Every Spring comes to bloom at once.


Whatever they say of me,
Even if it is of loss,
Will have been centuries in the making,
As old as the cracks in my hands,
Are my feelings for you.


For Your Travels and Travails

In silent Love,
Go in good peace,
For we embrace as equals,
And once met those like us,
Are never truly alone.

And again and again, we drink the inseparable fire from living.


The Cabin

There were dedications and promises,
Carved into its sides,
Entire lives and deaths,
Written around the cracks,
And both intimate and private wars,
Remembered inside the knots.

Cut off my tongue if I speak ill of you,
Cut off my hand if I do you wrong.


Time to Take Me

Please take me under the cherry trees,
With bluets to hear my final satisfactions,
Stories about you all,
My friends,
Stories until you can see every one of them behind my eyes.

The Cycles

When we are gone,
An others take our place,
Perhaps with houses of their own,
Or even liver spots and pensions,
Will our eyes still meet the same?
Will I hear this note until I have no ears?


An Admonishment

Even while we are meant, destined,
Encouraged and driven forward,
Let us also be here,
In laughter or silence or whatever that means.

Materials for Building

Tonight, a nod to
a youth of curves,
games and quick brushes,
rushes of foreign flowers.

Warm forms that rested
under unpolluted stars,
alerting any and all to the importance
that comes with investing belief.

Spoken Threads

Just to be there,
Privy to all the whispers that escape,
Like messengers to the conscience of a future self,
Take care, Take heart, Take each minute for its own.

The Light Behind

I love you,
Even though you will not remember,
Dangling from my wrists,
Around and around,
You must learn for yourself.

Vergennes Methodist Church Circular Excerpt

"We packed up the differences between us, possessions mostly: alarm clocks and magazines, the last of the tobacco paper, those coasters I never used. We left it all in two proud blue pieces of luggage, bulging at us from the centre of the room. I wondered for the briefest moment whether or not I should leave a fiver on top for the housekeeping, or the police, but my wallet was buried deep in the left bag and her hand was already around and pulling mine, and one of our hands was on the doorknob but I can't remember whose, and I can definitely tell you that the latch caught but after that I couldn't help you. If you want to know about my hands and feet, or her eyes and the way she laughs I'm an expert, but beyond that brother, you're up shit creek."

-Nathan Langley, September 1982, in response to being asked how he and his wife Molly had managed to live 116 years.


I was made fearless,
By the tempest that was,
And the firestorm you broke into,
As time stripped us down,
To solid truths.


Every scientific breakthrough,
And all the lives of the saints,
Don't get at me like you do.

Just keep whispering those tender,
Vital words around our lives.
"Will I see you again?"

In the Quiet Wind

Your long skirt
always spoke to me of
being lost and loved and loving,
billowing in a dream of our own making.
Something to be proud of.