Where Are They Now?

Here is the key, the weight
of an anvil.  The door too is heavy
as if every cell of its wood infused
with gravity presses in on itself.

Implosion is a form of escape;
the question is where?

Things that were once free
are locked away.  The more I know,
the tighter I hold;  the stronger
the body, weaker the soul.

But what do I really know
about leaving?  Those who have
gone will never tell.


The Unseen

walk this road,  black hood down
while somewhere in the universe
the golden Galapa-Clackits mate
inside their molten fiery egg.

Every point in this world
has an alternate stain, every soul
a separate set of strings.

Have you seen the square-shaped
moon, velvet purple veined like
spiders poised in a milky web?

In a room made of voices,
these walls have heard strange
pulses like drums or heavy boots
the sound of lead and bells 
dancing across the neon arches.

I'm not crazy but we are together
twisted, two hearts whose mouths
have never kissed, whose fallen lives
two separate dreams. I know who
you are.  I wish I could have met you.

I've seen the unseen-

have you?


Claw-Shaped Stars

What about the terrible
incongruent existence
of stars and wolves?

To a certain degree
what shines prowls.

What crouches glows
inside itself
within shadows.

How can you love what's cruel?

Under the vigilant night,
her saw-toothed babies cry
with cavernous throats like

deep pools of oily water.

See the pinpoint lights,
strangely attractive, small
diamonds in their eyes

reflect sky.

Do you fear beauty made
of darkness, of sorrow?

The tender heart
is no match
for the claw.