*telling the truth sometimes involves abandoning your friends.
-New Statesman



living trust

times there are when words are spittle spat upon waves from mouths spewing lies and we are drawn to drink it in

times there are when we sit in boats floating towards a distant rock no rudder no oar to move us from the shore

times there are when we walk on thread juggling our lives beneath safety nets as a fog creeps in to steady our feet

times there are when speakers stammer to speak new words from texts that hammer faithful trust beyond imprecisions

times there are all too much but we carry them with heads held up our bodies broke our spirits intact



Jazz and a Spring Bulb

Tombed in the sterile womb
with dead life forms the wintery scene-
blanketed o'er like a fluffy quilt.

Star light and moon light with
sun light; coolness and chilly with
the warm heat - 'neath a cancerous belt.

Footprints painted on a paper cup
and transmigrating the seasons time
dopish, sleeping in the new spring time.

Ambrosia drunk (the god's own dew)-
staggered - and ermined in the
Tabor splendor: garmented bright.

"It is good for us to be here." - Voice
mad thunder clouds on a windy day;
marriage, love, impregnated earth.

Partition! Break and quiescent pain;
lab'ring joy - (stretched up, a limb);
a late resurrection - but Resurrection.