Aug 212011
 
I dream of infernal pallors,
Lily-dead smokes infesting

Switchback rivers that snake
The peace-bedizened landscape--

Full of river verve and tribal tums.
Full, too, of the fulsome motions

Of desire-- its bleak, expressive needs
Coiled in the chocolate dark of dreams.

I sketch red arroyos with my
Fingerend, carve clouds with my breath,

And roil the Rappahannock with swales of tears. . . .
By inches I enrich the night grasses,

Dibbling endless seed as carelessly
As the storm-strong river veers.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.