Poems

dusty drugs

and can we care for this nothingness

stretched skin taut between a million

kisses?

recorded nowhere is this careless bliss,

sufficient still the absence

we are, unregistered missives to Hell's heaven

forgotten fetching, the length we are

and worthy girth of man

reflected the stars

the memory that stands

meaning, unreasonable as torment and ecstasy

in its dreamless season

a god or an animal knows

and holds to its own

 

while everything dries to dust

under our fumbling fingers

and dries to dust and crumbles

like love.´, and dries to loveless dust

and loves us, drying dust

the loving drug, heaven below us,

Hell above

 

 

dead trees

the forest before us here and behind

time should always live this wilderness

forever, trees that remember unfeeling to die

together, their passing not to chairs and paper

but lying in the arms of each other, their brothers

slow-passing the surpassed sky and reverting

to the grave surface

that ants may take them then

and make them dust and toiling soil,

exigencies of nature's broken love;

man's mechanism

is not good enough for these

trees, their burgeoning lust

sinful as any drug

their memory

dust

 

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