Sunday, October 12, 2014

Breathing thru yr fingertips

Dropping in on one last mushy floater was
just going to have to be enough
knees slightly bent, arms hanging down, relaxed
Jack Christ on a mule a seabreeze rattling the palm trees
great blue heron heading east like Bodhidharma
signs & wonders or what little Jimmy found
on the tideflats I believe in the supremacy of rust
The Mask of the Redeemer
late summer nights that smell of burned fog
Sat right down in the middle of the street
talking to myself a trick I learned at the halfway house
it was the Feast  of St. Francis
The Blessing of the Animals
a final reckoning a photo opportunity
From the beach you could just make out
a rolling left break w/a bowl section
mas fina off the point shrouded in mist
Seafoam & adrenalin in a mason jar tucked under yr arm
ars poetica made of time & water hecho de tiempo y agua
to be exact following deer tracks in the wet sand
sworn to a sky of turquoise and of silver
iron rebar bleeding rust onto broken concrete
the roach of “whatever”
& the descending of the tide