1995

 

 

To capitalism, capital and capitalists
Work, you ask me
When the trees are calling louder
But your knife is at my throat
I’d rather it disappear
Or I could vanish
Visit the clouds
Run with the wolves
Drink with the Gods
Under a dark green canopy
Of close, disguising firs
That field us from view
In this, our time of need
Against the wicked grey things
That would have me think
And have me worry
When at my happiest I am thoughtless.
Is this such a sin?
Or will you burn me because it makes you afraid.

my heartbeat

MOVING OVER  SACRED LANDSCAPE
PAWS POUNDING
FANGS BONE WHITE
LUNGS EXTENDING
TUNDRA FROZEN
EXHALE SHATTERS
NO HOWL NO HELP
MUST RUN
KEEP RUNNING
FOREVER

Untitled
Sleeping, shameless.
Time is darkness.
Bright star appears on
Northern shore.
Draws me closer
Waking, sunrise
Earth, she glimmers thru’
Open Door.

August 6, 1995
It is difficult
To face the thoughts
Of living away from you
Through the coming winter months.
Intellectual brain food
Will be a poor substitute
For the soul-feeding gruel
Of your warm body at night.
I am your little princess now
And I aim to be your Queen.
Please let there be no time
Of a question mark between.
You fill me whole
I am your soul
I love you.