New poem

 River

Touch glass, 

Getting my senses by re-figurines, 

Bigger than her letters of love, 

My banned reservoir,

The jugular swirl called touch ,

Branded, re-planed,

Higher Rigs, and jigs, 

Through the glass,

Somebody higher on the list, with a bigger plan, 

So much bigger than anyone would let go of, 

so much bigger than the world would know of, 

Bigger than I would let on, 

Is it my house that I would find?

 

The narrow possibility, and the creator nature,

Touch glass, and you know,

The text of the closed circuit, 

The death of news, 

The better surface,

Chases the outlaws,

Into my house,

(Touch toes, touch the madman

Waiting in the windows,

I can’t say,

The emptiness of my absence,

And the emptiness of the way back,

I Ship it on,

Pinches and punches,

Tensions run,

Lips to laugh,

Rabbit song across my face,

Dries me into fine lines, 

In my past,

So much bad,

Holds the mask,

Unable to last, unable to offer, unable to 

Under a limited collection of human skulls who ask if I am still spinning?

I’m not sure I don’t trust my senses, 

First wake, strange light,

Straight and wide, windows an open eye,

Straight on comes the collide into an open eye, with a better line, 

I’m afraid to do the ghost, just consolidated, sheer ashes,

(Higher on the Bayou, higher on the Bayou,

(Be your basket butter,

Moons on the loose,

Worlds of stillness,

Hey circle of stillness,

Loses the sandman,

My empty eyeball, 

My shrunken head,

Loss of blue halo’s,

No space and no source,

Only a pulse,

I’m timing her ocean currents,

While away, stretching that ocean tide,

To lighten the captivity,

Downsold in a Chasm,

Under cover,

Disappearance follows this charm,

Threads becoming rope,

I follow so closely,

The taste in the mouth of the killer,

Empty teeth,

Not a boy’s club,

No money, and no chips,

A transistor of river debris, 

Cock’s Illicit distention,

Reads the burning,

Into a re-location of fire,

The darkness in a different shade,

Roto-blender, 

Recognition, relocation, remembrance,

The river breathes in lips and mouth’s,

The river dreams in words and ideas,

Feeds the jungle,

The stones and seeds,

Concentration in the weaves,

The weeds and antelopes contrive,

Slipping under the grass and flags and fences,

Poisons slide unseen, under the table,

Left hand right hand, the axis speaks,

But needs a real life, to find eyes and ears,

Carrying hope by fingers and toes,  

Exposed the passive resistor,

In ripples, in pools, in quiet lakes, in raging seas,

A crevasse comes to weep,

Icicles begin their journey,

A million threads and the beginnings and endings, 

Breath of beggars and owners,

Are they for real? Or is it choice coming for me?

Another cover for an empty bed, 

A deeper death

Deeper to path,

Says to the river this is not a race,

There is no space, that was only your protection,

To be on your side, to your surface, 

Breaking the surface tension, go for a ride, 

Lucky, junky, and below the sea, in and out of dust, 

Fever of a night of heat dripping on my tongue, 

Sun of the fire on my face, 

Thermals under my voice, run with the telephone wire, 

A wish and a crier,

Vapor wonder,

Sunlight ponder,

Sly vapors,

Cast a net in the ripples,

When I can’t hold it up any longer, the broken mask, with traces of the past, dance with me at last, and the desperation of the street, made a business of tears,

River gives her name to all the reflections,

Just a weird weave,

Of a thousand streams, 

River runs around my eyes, 

And I fall to live,

A liquid fire,