The Dairy Freeze!

Went to the Dairy Freeze

last night—dipped in color-

ful sprinkles.  Walked the

two blocks of back alleys,

past the rusting chair by

the curb, past the peonies.

Went to the Dairy Freeze

last night—crunched tarred

chipped roads as I walked

my coney dogs home.  Nothing

was clairvoyant, as usual.

Went to the Dairy Freeze

last night—tried to forget

the ice-cream, the numb
pinching force in my skull,
the lawless hunger of need,
needing someone, anyone,
to walk with me back home.

boarders

Left part by the blustering
bluebells on a cinder night
by the fire.  I was the beryl
fibers of light, the mountains
themselves.  Left part of me
in Kentucky—visited by
moonshine eyes that meant

too much, encircled in apron
ties, wanting and wanting
until part of me left for good.

summer

The maples always sway

together.  There’s cotton-

wood in my hair, a snake

coiled near the trash, a dog

barking, his left ear folded.

I told you I felt summer

opening—a hand needing

held.  It is almost dark as I
fold into white sheets, alone.

Conversation at 2:12 on Saturday Afternoon while Sipping Iced Coffee

She told me about blue-green

infinity and power in my big toe.

Stroke your ego by counting music,

she instructed.  She communicates

with the natives to heal them. 

She doesn’t believe in venus

fly traps, because she is a vegetarian. 

She told me that Moses made a law

to stone people who killed flesh,

that she cried the night they killed

extraterrestrials in Area 51.  She
is convinced that Patrick Swayze

is trying to overtake her soul.
She is afraid of GMOs.  

Twilight

My grandmother’s   sun    drenched     cells,

dead,               when everything budded light

green.  Jonathon Edwards spoke  of Divine

Light.  I   saw      it   once,     steady sunlight

on a cactus. I thought of marks  on my back

from  the  year     I      grew         four   inches.  

Years later, those marks    are   still      there.