Fantazy

O, mechanical monkeys
are swinging after me.
And they are all headless.
And I really need to pee.

I run into the jungle
and climb a plastic tree.
It's coconuts are silver.
It winds up with a key.

The elephant drinks cola
and trumpets across the sea.
Buddha rings a bell, so
it must be time for tea.

The panther hides in jelly.
At night he's hard to see.
Yes, the rainbow is a halo.
If you're not in jail-be free.

It’s a Date

(Barcarolle)

Walking back
the path along
Creaky Creek,
I swear there’s
neon in the water,
dark-green neon,
spelling out
R-I-P-P-L-E-S
like neon does.

The fish flash,
while wild
leaves laugh.
Insects sigh.
Birds nest
in binoculars.
Walk back like
we say. We
agree to meet.

—Noon, at the
Point of No
Return.
Hello.

Costumes

The young guy at work says he
is going to dress up like
me for Halloween.
I am too.
Boo
!

Amuse me.

Is there anything more private than a poem?
This public confession that may or may not be fiction-
     this excess of intellect, brute emotion and archetype?
How else can the soul whisper/screem into the variant air?
Clouds are more real and less dangerous.
Rocks are no more substantial.

Deputy Do Dah ran down the road,
dirt and his heels and rocks at
his toes. Ran eight hours for
nothing and yelled at the
sun. He had a pocket
full of bullets but
none for his
gun. This
is his
in.

You
stone.
You rock.
You pebble
in the heron's
beak. You grain
of sun on the beach.
Confuse skin and flame.

Had a care.
Did.
Don't.
You?

Fashion

She had one of those new faces
that looked more beautiful
when slightly bruised--
that color of skin,
as she is seen
in French
maga
zine
s.

The Child's Confession

Baby ate a fiddle back.
Puppy's in the pond.
Daddy had a heart attack.
Who's the with my mom?

Couldn't get to school today,
Not with a bloody nose.
See, the man who likes to play
By taking off my clothes.

Living in a mobile home,
Living in the park,
I don't like to be alone,
Especially in this dark.

Motion

Parties appear
and then vanish.
For a moment it seems someone
say somethingin Spanish.
Appointments
are sharpened
and then dulled.
Expectation is denied;
love overruled.

The Frog

Look at that old poet
sitting on a log
by my pond.
How thrilled he seems
when I jump in.
He mouths, "Plop."
I make ripples.
He writes poems.

How Do You View?

What do you care about
the brick path
I walk down
with this water bucket?
Do you care about
the pot of basil
that needs the water?

Do you care about me-
how my bare feet feel?
Is it the joy
of being sympathetic,
the sensation
of your feet
and some other
brick path?
The sun
warms
even the shade.

And what a beautiful bag of blood you are,
my guttsy muscle, my skin-glistening friend.
Come, let us wrinkle together.
I have breath to share.
I know the place just beyond apprehension
where you want to be touched.
Lets find water and submerge.
Lets live the urge.

I Bike up

morning shade

alley to work,

the bird,

the squirrel,

the young man

who says,

"Hello, sir."

What did

I forget?

Where you going, boa,
snaking around like a prune in the night.
I got some toenails for you to cut.
I got a cup of milk for you to boil.
All you want is your rat's ass
on a silver platter.
That'll happen in Natches, Lord.
And you can stitch that in polyblend.

Lacquer Sky

Roans on the hill fade to sunset.

Among lacy grass and still dust

history make its lazy way.

Joey Dryhorse decides to laugh.

Rabbit and quail do not understand.

The crow, however, does.

Native History

Joey Dryhorse traded in his spear

for a pool cue

and his rifle for a guitar.

He plays prairie grass blues

for round faced women

who smoke and drink.

He plays pools with them.

He sings about days and death,

nights and how badly

he needs a love job.

It's raining teeth.

Lightning's got us twitching.

Gum the dull knife, bro.

Lick the black off.

Back off.

Tote those totems.

Float those bottoms.

Poke them possum.

Toke 'n pass 'em.

What's a bogart, Jones?

Big Dog Bobby Doe

drove his Tonka Toy

up to the back door

and had a blow out.

Now that cowgirl

Willie Earl won't neck

unless you slip a noose

'o pearls 'round her neck.

Last time I was on camera

it added at least thirty pounds

to my waist. I haven't been

able to lose it. I am avoiding

photographers.

Did they tell you fever would be coming?

I found you on Calle Donceles,

of course, with a book in your hand.

To this extent I knew

I could be your friend.

Fix me another Pausademente,

with extra ice.

Con libros in tus manos.

Su libros hablan la idioma de

paginas secas, de viento

y vegas.

Nos digan quien somos.

Somos palabras, brasos y palabras.

I'm feeling happily gelatinous.

Gracious, my protoplasm's showing.

The tender beat him with a muddler,

beat him to within and inch of his wink.

She was algeric to flirt.

His hands were on the brink.

It was on the tip of his tongue.

She shaved ice and slice lime.

He meant mint.

She seemed to mind.

Catherine stared at the floor as if

she expected the carpet to fly away.

Lost in thoughts, she might

never be found.