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I yank back the
curtains
& snatch the badman around the neck.
Upturn a flagstone in the brush
& expose the egg-mad ant scurry. Eyes avert
& wash over me like cold water thru frosted glass.
I read hair-thin tendrils & hands hold
it, whatever in hell this is, up by the greens
like a trophy turnip. Mind paints the tune
with the ruby wig of an unearthly dandelion.
I take a fist with open eyes. Wait
at the bottom of the pool & see the plunge
implode the roof. Eyes burn limbs
that gush in surface breath. Mind cheats
& freezes it all exact. Fingers
trace the diver’s trail & touch its vermillion
throat. Little boys love
what they kill. You stay. Dry lips scratch along
the silent belly of the shore. Eyes closed
to steam risen from the basement basin
of your soap-stone karma. Mind runs itself down
thru deep sand in the windblown dawn.
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