Saturday, April 23, 2016

I am nature.
- Jackson Pollock

What black
and shadowed land
lives not in darkness but insight?

There is fertility in the buried seed, buried bone.

Stone,
placed in my pocket,
a fossil record walking with me.

Outside white waterfalls.
Falls.

Black remembers how inside you remain,
rising,
aware.




Thursday, April 21, 2016

it is the long pillow, time
an earthen raft
of artlessness

upon a nothing sea

that within or without realigns its drift


until

and yet.....


no more, no less

Tuesday, April 5, 2016