Nature, Man and Woman

Now cite for me the place that it begins –
parse the peas and carrots please; and then
the creepy-crawly things, and things with fins
and when you’re through with that, consider men!
No, really, it’s a joke to will us there,
beyond the borders of all else that breathes
[we’ve long been far less vital than the air]
and flowers growing wild surpass all wreaths;
true nature lives in us and we in her;
we are not separate from the scheme of things;
it’s skin as much goosedown, beaver fur –
your precious stones were precious before rings.
     It’s Mother Nature brought about your birth;
     we are not foreign bodies here on Earth.

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The Sheer Volume of Histories

haphazzard              
                     inevitables
         or ponderous        imponderables

                   times out      
                        in forgotten dreams    

                tides turn at times
   – tsunamistyle, it seems –
               and splinter
                        these frailest
                                  of  vessels

     now      that  one gull-white sail
             is rent
                        asunder      
                    I am left   adrift              

                                        to wonder

               who poured all the lead
          into those empty suitcases ?

                    a weary heart embraces
                                     fearful thoughts

     . . .  can these tenderest green buds
            survive so many mean     and ancient
                              onsloughts ?

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New Beginnings

My weary darling sleeps
and his slumber fashions
my waking fantasies
as I follow unrecognized
shadows around walls that
have acquired fresh coats
of innocence – rooms newly
unknown, unexpected incarnations
of love reborn in dreams
of countless kisses –
of kisses sweet
and kisses langourous,
rough and tender
beyond blunt gender
beyond beyond –
though truest love commands
I let my dear sleep on.

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Seduction

forget the lore on birds and bees
how to tease and how to please
how to squeeze and never freeze ?
try gin or vodka to appease
or maybe just some wine with cheese
alcohol does it…by degrees.

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Smoke Screen

love letters
from the outer
Hebrides –
spending time in
The Other Side Café;
smokey bar-b-
ques
and mind your
peas;
of course it’s a tease –
i cannot recount the
real deal,
cannot leak a
peek — nor even a squeak
from this beak
be as forth-
coming
as it might
on the heels of love
in flight –
high-wire stuff
and aching purities
reborn in fire.

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A Sense of Propriety

When my husband was dying
you and I were doin’ it
in drafty hotels
punished by bus fumes
consumming ourselves
in life, while death racked
and stone crushed him –
as if he were some traitor –
in the so-public square
of hospital.

Betray my husband,
who I visited daily in his
antiseptic prison?
No. That would have meant
bringing you to his bed –
I chose instead clones of
Room309 with the rattling
partitions – one day a week,
for that is all we ever stole,
fifty days of that year,
leaving the nuptial couch
to its sanctity – that hallowed
place of Husband and Wife.

A fine distinction, you say?
Perhaps, but then
many have none at all.

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Bad Romance

Bad romance is
like the universe –
I mean, thinking about it:
on the one hand
it must end somewhere
and on the other
you feel it can’t;
your heart aches if you stay
would ache if you went away…
every answer
is a wrong answer
but you don’t know
how to stop
puzzling it out.

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