Saturday, January 18, 2014

Corporate Silence



Like a piece of shedding skin,
the scarf around my neck
is a smoky-grey cheetah-impression
of a sewing machine carpe diem
of a woman at fifty cents an hour.
Stitches, and dyes.

Life fell under the harvest moon
where I stood like a tree.
In the sky,
there was nothing but clouds
in a perfect fit.

There was more to it.
There were dogs.
I wished they were wolves
howling at the fiery eyeball
in the bruised billow.

I wished she was as strong as a silent tree.
I wished she could scream like dogs howl.
I wished it right there.

She wanted nothing.
I wanted everything and all the time.

Voices of a choir in my silence,
I wanted a prayer,
a dancing wind,
a muse,
an invisible touch,
Bukowski’s soul,
Thoreau’s mind to find
A thread of thought and time.

I wanted to rest in this illusion.





Published at http://www.counterpunch.org/2014/07/18/romero-and-vongsaravanh/


 



                  







Friday, January 17, 2014

The Challenge





when the moon is craving its own light
when the sun is praying for cloudy skies to hide
when birds are featherless but want to fly
when wet paint dries
when nature is framed for a wall
when saints fuck prophets
when the window is open and everyone watches
when the eyes are shut and see it all
when words are voiceless
when the floor is softest
when a song is on repeat
when paper planes fly and land on a lake
when ice seems thick enough to skate
when the falling snow rushes into a breath
when the knees crack
when time is a desert
when the clock won’t stop
when dust sits on tall wine glasses
when candles burn 

stay in the present

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