Saturday, February 18, 2012

At Long Last

The moon is painted glass
And a small crack is beginning to show
Under its eye.  Don’t touch it.
We don’t need the milk all over the floor.

The speaker wore a salmon necktie.
He understands how clouds unfold across lakes of sky.
The moment a Japanese girl
Penetrates his soul, she is flying like a fish.

Later they get undressed in a dream.
It is time to spread joy.
A yellow cat serves black tea.
The butter and blueberry stick to their whiskers.

Night was a sparkling blue paste.
Hand me the toothbrush.
Telephone!  It was his mother and would he please
Not forget to bring her The Way of the Samurai.

Close call.  Mom’s ear was nearly shot off.
One fella had a pitchfork.
A bloodied rage by the side of the road, or was it a squirrel?
Pharsalus in a puddle, and then calm.

The arrows of happiness are released by the sun.
The snow descends like rice.
We are out of the fight
And it is a great day to do laundry.

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