Blah Blah Eternity

1

I’m in hot water: lodestone

malfunction, throbbing

ocean on my back.

My shell’s beauty –

hardened by time – I 
meant to master. Eyes,

but the blind kind, ears 
not to hear, nose

full of sweat

one should love.

Incrementally is best

says mercy.

Lull into dream

does the trick.

To be a hot cloud,

pink when I set.

But what of the steamy wrath 
I became?

Engraved surrender,

body of low words

like the gods once were.

2

I AM, that's true, 
religion of one, miracle

Of timing, timepiece

of the divine no

genius can ever solve,

hallowed be my name –   

I knelt at the figure

of that lovely man

in a simple robe

of earth, spread-eagled

eyes on the jumbled

throng, on me, my song

nailed to itself,

flesh to spirit,

spirit as flesh,

earth and sky

nailed to the prayer

that repeats after me

like a kid says 
over and over “Dad, 
listen to me, please?”

3

Delved into it

on all sides going back

generations,

and it’s doom & gloom

looks like. Screwed

if it bears fruit.

The great-great-greats

fell in pain

where they lived,

uncles and aunts

hammered their hearts,

lots of wheezing.

This is a deathbed

denial: whatever

got done, I meant

something else, or didn’t

do it at all. Acquitted

like all of us

of our alleged crimes

amid the stars.

Bottoms beckon.

4

Meantime, a PC-

coffee-glut, and touchdowns,

the boom boom boom

of victory; koans

serve obituaries. Poor Pres, 
no wading in the palace

fountain, no dipping

for lucky Lincolns

or an FDR;

not enough iodine

for the masses. 

His thinking

cracks like lightning,

conveys death

to non-believers.

Our guys and gals

wear the white hats

to stay cool

in the unforgiving shine.

They fit perfect.

It never sets there.

5

Terrible things happen.

time, space agree

it’s always terrible.

Wonderful things

happen and everyone

is afraid to see.

It’s like a new marriage;

rushing around,

forgetting things

then remembering

what’s best to forget.

A final sweep

of the old terrain.

It ends like one too,

with a falling

on the bed, arms

wide open, big

accomplishment.

Terrible wonder

in measure. And now,

what now?

6

I’d like to know who

will run the upkeep

when the center falls

apart, who will dispose of

the cars, trucks, trains

and who gets to live

in the toll-taker’s booth?

I want to know if 
paradise has gutters of litter,

if it has gutters at all.

I don’t want that old kind of paradise 
with its language in ruins

wherever you listen.

What happens if someone

from somewhere 

moves in? Gives us the boot?

What if other people

want to fly their flag above us?

I collect flags, big ones

and small, because you never know. 

Run one up the pole in a snap.

7

Once upon a time....

spic-n-span like the deck of a ship

bow to stern; barking

from the bridge, the headless

edge of a polar wind—

Once upon a so-so

soiled by too little oxygen,

a hole closes

each step you take

is what drives us mad

in the humid polluted climes

where horizons

have no mercy, endlessly

exhaling

goodnight’s idea. 

Spotlessly –look 
at the universe

I’d like people

to keep it thus,

evading the next

something to cry about.

8

All you see was once
mine, before you arrived.

Everything

you see I was.

Now that you’re here

out of the blue

it belongs to no one

as if found, tripped over

on the way to mass.

Picking it up

makes it yours, even,

think about this, 

please, 
even though

it was once all mine.

I was lord of my domain.

Now I am a domain

resisting its lord.

What splendid times

when it was mine.

Now you, death and you.

9

I didn’t invent me. I didn’t

make a life from nothing

or take anything

or do anything

or say anything

about anything

ever.

I didn’t ask to be here.

You bore me.

Have the decency

to provide

a warm thing.

Have you forgotten

your manners?

Improved them?

Is it honor, and nothing

else, no humility,

no civility

without reward?

I offer my foot to wash.

I offer thirst.

10

I go among them

as if they’d want me

alone

as if they and I

one mind

one charge

as if I were not me

but posing as one

I go among them

without options.

No stake in the outcome,

being for

today a song,

an arrow’s feather-brief

flight, vibrations

through air.

I shoot among them

as if at a target

moving as I do

move when I hear

me coming.

11

I’ll give you everything

ff you promise love

forever

even if I have to war

against those you admire

and the architecture

you love, forever

(or else I can’t

give anything)

until death.

just in case you get too
used to me,

in case you notice

your breath is mine,

mine yours.

Promise me forever

no matter what happens

or die or

let’s just forget it.

Can you live with that?

Neither can I.

12

I’m no apple expert,

just a fan of compromise

if the numbers are right,

if it doesn't linger too long

in my conscience

and wreck

everything else that's there. 

If it takes a daily on the rocks

I say, hey, hello

pour me one.
Think of hot shampoo

dreams for reality’s 

boon coming to myself

in a panic: save me! 

Please! Yes, calm

in the make-believe

I don’t know

on the street, at the table

while my wife

ladles soup and the kid

waves a toy

13

like the flag of home.

Carnival time--

decide: walnut

or plum, wound or pain.

She was uneverything,

unspoiled

enough to love.

I was rich

with poverty

of experience.

We alchemized,

fell victim, shining

in a conspiracy

beyond our knowledge

though believing

love was a dyke-hole

and a fingertip

and stardust 

enough

to fill in the scars.

We got gold, miraculously.

14

I’m always in motion,

a wave in the air, okay,

okay, whatever

you say is me.

I tidy up around here. 

My only

discipline. I am

a stay-at-home warrior

memory-armed

with maps, parking

my least resistance

like residual

highs, clouds

of skies like leaves 
fly in, swirling,

curling goodbyes.

Nothing’s a thing

when I crash

in apathy

on the grass no one

bothers to cut.

15

Garden birds sing

their view. I sit back

like everything

is fine and dandy. 
A drink; the wind

combs the land.

The main leak

is in slow-motion,

wall of a lifetime

below standards.

Technology

will save us,

when my son owns it.

He’ll wink a brand

new roof, blink

the wall to right itself

or a machine

will do it for him.

I have faith.

History is full of faith.

That’s how we got here.

I’m keeping mine

since it so happens

that’s all there’s likely to be.

16

At night in the castle

I imagine voices

moving in the dark

of the people

I know how to love.

I’m always alone,

always just

about to light a smoke

beneath the stars

right on top of me,

a wild country thing

screaming inside

the black trees. 

like Royalty’s henchman:

manager of details,

who, what, when, 
how I’m the one

atop the bomb—

Programmed for love

on a cross
of promises.

17

Always lately

in the alley, in my mind,

bushes that edge

your place. I climb

the tallest tree in the yard

singing whippoorwill

shrill until the sun

breaks on the hill.

I watch papa

and the youngest

hunt for the ball

in the grass,

her teen self

ski-jumping as she 
trots to find it.

In the alley

I search for love

half-eaten in its wrapper

or a safe place

to avoid the ones who hate

signs they’re lost.

18

I go to my job

for money, to have

something to do.

on the road

in contemplation

behind the wheel

with the sun

baking my forehead

through the glass,

tractors, trucks, compacts

with trailers pig-piled

for market, a lady

pushing a carriage

on the dirt shoulder

between towns,

I avoid them all

remembering

between thoughts

not only am I bringing peace 
to myself

but I’m driving.

19

You want it

and don’t know why

and then do, and then don’t

want it at all,

don’t think about it.

You think rather

the answer lives

only to die to live again
in endless thought,

in the meaty deep

lungs where loose

ends contend,

converge

in polyps of yesterday,

branches of hope. 

Lately it makes sense

in the rain

because you can see

from a god’s POV

the dandelion nodding yes,

yes, agreeing to disagree.

20

Nothing but juice—

I have it figured. Remember

how I once imagined

you? And I’d be nothing

without you. Nothing

without us, without me

and others.

Remember the tricks we played,

how I knew where it hurt

and went there

to help kindness take root?

That was real.

But you can’t recall

the reasons or the point

you wished to make

about living that way,

losing your sight

in the glare, what died

mounted to debt.

I bank at church, fill

my account with hymns.

21

Hard knowing.

I say any word

and the chestnut

drops a pincushion

on my head. The birds

sound off

past us.

I can’t wiggle myself

out of it. Hard

being here. Being

there for you,

too. (Can I borrow

a few dollars?)

Maybe there's a breeze

where you are.

At least in the beginning

before here and there

facing each other

look like leaving

and returning from now

on the same.