Sunday, July 30, 2017

slicker weather.

[We grab an audience at the water wall,
and the rock shimmers in the velvet morning,
but the water's off.
We found our moment, our chance to say we
found our place in everything, or:
We found exactly where we need to feed in
to get in line, and:
we found an opportunity to exit the drama
before we sell it.
A stone passed over a fist.
We are haunted by the resonance,
the ripples in the retaining pond]


slicker weather

do you want to dance
while we are waiting for things to get good again?
we should get moving.

so many days it was supposed to rain and didn't,
well maybe for a minute.

come on rain,
here i sit at the end of this night,
typing and dialing,
and dialing in;
trying to reach some one at the end
of a long distance line.
and there's
absolutely no one else around
to point a finger, to shake a stick.

last night, i woke close enough
to you to smell, even though
we were homes apart.
maybe in separate rooms,
we had hit separate bottoms.

how bout that dance?
i'll be outside if you want to talk about it
it's getting a little loud in here,
with the sun ready to burst
all these fractal prisms across our floor.

come on rain,
just when i thought i had this pattern sorted out
the sun comes up
come on rain,
and bits of the truth have worn off
and are brittle in the light.

come on rain.

how bout that dance?