Wednesday, June 29, 2005

water

blue tubes are heavily
laden with lakes of quench
a throat constricted
scratched and dry
wetted with the thrill
of a tip.

clearly
clearly
from the skin it goes
pours like a lake
to the ground

in the air it's a mist
a bubble gone cold
a dangling opportunity
passed through the lips.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Medium

between you and me,
i'll share you this,
a stab of consid--
a plate on a stack of gum
you have chewed me asunder
and slipped in the dark
and under the bow you floated
up you bobbed in a crystal
night like a floating bobbin
through the head of a pin
are you there?
are you there?