balls

yesterday the man tell me
he going shrink the globe
into a crystal ball
and my goodness
he done done it

when you put you eyeball on it you
could see
everything jumping out at you like
wild honeybees
everything is there
clear
like the light of day

and Mama Mimi who live
in the West Indies
say how she always long
to shop for silk thongs
in the East Indies
and she did

and Mister Vincent who live
in Alaska snow say he want
strike a quick match with a hot
gal what ain’t no Eskimo
and he did

and Thingum Dem Services Company Limited
say they want everybody know
what they business is
and they did

and the man tell me
he going leave the globe behind
and find
another one in a more perfect space

and the man tell me
with the globe in your hand
you can have anything you want
any time
in any place

except life

well yes
you right
except life

except peace

well yes
you right
that too
not even a
piece of peace

Boy

oh boy

a boy

has got to play

for thirty something years or more ‘til he’s played out

‘til he’s dirty enough to take a bath

in the pool of tears collected out of days

when he collected red and blue caterpillars and

sticky-back all-hue soldiers spiders and

humpty-dumpty roll-ly-poll-lys and

legions of black stinging ants, bumble-bees and

broken butterflies and frightened fireflies

a boy

has got to be

strong

to forget

when he learned to ride

a bike or

fall

from a tree or fly

a batman kite

a boy’s

got to learn to hide

the pains of falling

the pains of seeking what he’s lost

the pains of feeling lost

the strains of being

a boy

has got to die

a kazillion times to live

one little life

a boy’s

got to love

somebody

a boy’s

got to be somebody’s

love

a boy’s got to be

a boy

October

Cute
Tanned
Skinned
Beauty
Posed on a tree trunk
Sitting in a swim suit
Staring at the sunlight
Searching for eyes


The white horse hides
Its face and shows its
Black freckles through the background
A tree trunk is alive for moments like
October

popinjay

Ah, a talking bird that out talks the pirates

in the half hour story Molly read to Peter

on his birthday

didn’t have to guess what

she was thinking

couldn’t even think

through the clatter of the chatter and

the clutter of the drumbeat

sounds

just like explosions

like a catastrophe in the desert

like a liar having lunch in a morgue that’s big

as a monastery full of limbs and branches

and on every sprig lands a popinjay

and the world grows heavy and begins to fall

Lament

She stands outside the black rest room door

Leaning to the side of least resistance

Learning to discern the temperament

Of the corpulent motions copulating on the other side

What now

Every blank moment has come to a stand still

There is a heavy flush of laughter and

She cannot help but join in

She weeps

For all her standing days

She wonders

Why she’s been on the out side

She keeps

Taking useless peeps through the stained glass

She sees

Nothing of her exclusion but see that her dreams are not

Included

In the visions of the missionaries that come to paint the hinges

That come to paint the pain

She stands outside the black door

Heaving heavy flesh into buns for baking

She’s been waiting

For the fire

The time will never never never never never never come

For me

When will I get to see

What about me

What

About me

What about

Me

blood

your blood runs

through

the forgotten forsaken regions of my tender soul

i see your words that fly

in through the melodious unlimited space and the

face of my everlasting past is chiseled into

perfection

i peek over

the mountain’s dew strewn edge and see

eve and dawn

sitting together in a rainbow river

washing each others lifelong hair

and singing of a bright light

that joins today

to an undulating forever

Run

The road opens

into a yellow field

and

in the middle there is a bulls-eye

and

in the middle there is a short thin man

shaking one hand

Arrest me you stupid brutes

I want to go to the jail on the twin hills

for three days and four nights

lock me in a crowded cell

so I can steal the pale pail

when it is brim full

so I could dash

all the way to the seashore

Madame Clava is sprawled

out there on the beach in

the sand with the salt

water washing her

And I want

to douse her good

till the cracks

of her eyes are masked

till the cracks

of her teeth are buried

till the cracks

of her lips are drowned

Egress

Leaves from your chocolate tree sit

on my coffee table awaiting our exhalations

And we touch toes and stare at the dust particles in

the sunlight between us

There’s a treasure chest of love resting in the corner

And still we are indigent

And still we lose ourselves in spoils of wishful thinking and rabid devotion

You are forever free

If we could just write these words into our skin

You are forever free

If we could just tag these thoughts to our heart

Let’s pick a part and play our parts in our Act Two

You leave and I grieve and we weave a fantasy existence

You grieve and I leave and we weep a floor full of pointless tears

pointed at our willingness to forget that between us in us for by us there is love

The wetness spawns a reprise and we laugh and we fall and we fill

the room with flesh and spirit and fresh spit dripping sweet from our clamoring lips

We are forever free

If we could just rivet this river of reprisals into our core

Lock them away as we embrace

We are forever free

And we leave the stage together and apart

suspended and sustained.

Date

Date
We have a date
With destination
A day in the life of a god is forever
So our time begins before
Before the chaos
Before the calm
Before the sun smelted the moon
After the decay of death fogs our vision

We have a date
With data
Too much to know is too little to understand
And we pound it into our iron pots
And we stir in the oil from our skins
And we learn to forgive the fearful and forget our fears
But we are hungry for meaning

We have a date
Time belongs to god so we can never run out
So much time
So much eternity
So much life
So many endings
We are spent of longing and waiting
We are full of questions

Bet

I bet you have kissed

tulips before

and sucked

the soft middle out

of fowl eggs that never found their way

to the hut behind your hot heart

I bet you have closed moist

eyes and seen the world on

a string spinning in

a dancehall of politicians pundits and preachers

So why are your ears clogged

with wicked wind and wise water

Why wonder whether your delight is guaranteed

by the infinite promises that are conceived by

a manufacturing plant in the deep toy strewn sky where

all is stamped with the trademark DDD

Deceive Distress Destroy

Why hide in the mud of yesterday’s miseries and glees

Why sit in the puddles of fears that splatter tomorrow’s tracks

Bring on the sun storm

bite into the present flesh

I bet you can smile

at nothing

even when there is something

to laugh about.

Old

I actually look forward to it.

I look forward to being a great old man.

Accomplished, happy, content, kind, loving,

as physically fit as the best of them,

as sexually able as ever

better in and out of bed than ever

with a bigger tongue for tasting life’s sweet whatevers.

I look forward to having more knowledge than I could use

Having more leisure time, space and peace that I could abuse

I look forward to holding in my heart so many wonderful memories

that the few awful ones would have no room to surface.

I look forward to being proud of my ability to walk barefoot and naked

without shame, as I do now.

I look forward to being freer and more broadminded

than I could possibly be as a younger man.

I look forward to being a little rough

To having a tougher skin and a gaping laugh.

I look forward to the time when my future is short and sure

and every second is special.

As an old man

I’ll be able to confidently look the world in its eyes and

tell it to #@*&* off,

cause I would owe no one an explanation,

I would have done it all,

and I would be ready to die.