This collection written over a twenty year period evokes a
deep sense of
Softly sitting in the sunshine,
a bit of straw in my fingers,
I'd wonder at the ants
measured, goal oriented,
carrying loads for the queen.
I'd play Nintendo games, do crossword puzzles
Throwing seconds, days, weeks into
small events and experiences.
Suddenly I'm in a hurry.
Images of Virginia: Her video dreams imposed on
wild thrashing gasps of anger against the night.
The path's length never bogged me down before.
Red dirt road climbed and fell with light breezes.
Sightseeing at will, old rock carving caves,
museums of glass and steel,
treasured books with musty smells, intuitive leaps.
that need to understand all in a gestalt
lets me down
I'm on my ass on the road.
Travelers pass crying "patience" and "one step at a time."
I sit in stubborn silence.
I'm in a hurry
I want all languages now
especially Spanish for my blood.
I want to roll the R's like a phallic kiss
I want to spray out my passion like raw whisky
in the rhymes and rhythms of the Spanish declination.
And Hebrew next,
Holy tongue that hides the mysteries of all
within small roots to a tree
I'm in a hurry to communicate,
while fires burn in cities
crying we're too late to understand.
We must awaken from our slumber.
I sit with beer can, passive:
the news images intermixed
with messages from our material god.
Sound bites of lullaby.
I want it all and now each grain of knowledge
drops like sand in an imagined hourglass.
Dorothy in a poppy field
sleeping through the quest
and no wise good witch to bring snow.
Only a cold lump of unrisen bread sitting in my chest.