When I was a child, I was a free-footed falcon.
Every man in the world was a skyscraper and I perched here.
My dad was a falconer, he wore a leather glove.
My life was free from wasps, full of lemonade sun.
It was morning and the world was rising.
I love you but electricity can kill you.
I love you but light pollution obscures the stars.
I love you but birds must leave their nest
to know what it means to come home.
The bees are buzzing loudly now.
I am a falcon becoming a man,
my boots grow heavy on the ground–
So goodbye, I learned to fly
away. Goodbye,
I am burning in flight now.
Goodbye,
our eyes dilate to watch it.
I fly, and fly,
and it’s brilliant light
and it feels so good,
I fly,
and I know
electricity can kill me, but
I don’t mind,
I fly,
and light
becomes itself,
multiplied
and
multiplied,
I fly, and they watch
as I burst ––
This
becomes a
fire-reaching star,
This
which is inseparable
from the dark sky.
Yet silence still lay upon the water at night;
What a beautiful way to die.
I just woke up
and I’m feeling refreshed –
rejuvenated like a yawning dog
So I sit on a lawn chair
and I watch the lilies float in the pond
The world is slowly gaining its colors
I’ll sit here until it does
We saw the God in each other
You enchanted my mirror, my reflection
felt like magic –
disengages, slowly,
Yet I still remember
your smile
and I know why I
should still love me
I thank you for
your gift of
admiration
The ground
had been growing
around me, fathering
a newfound time,
youth wrapped me
and I wore it on my sleeve
The girl who showed me
that flowers could dance in the rain,
she held my words with a single breath,
Her sunlit curls and her moonlit eyes,
she touched me and I felt like
a hermit who was on
the tracks,
Winter behind him,
spring ahead,
I lived on these tracks
she was too afraid to pull me forward
but i was too afraid to turn back.
Dust dances as I pick up the pen
I write “I’m reclaiming the studio”
and then I giggle, a tiny shinny thing, just for me
The Birth Rite
Every man, before life, must drink a foggy chalice of cologne and sweat.
Tongue burnt and torn, a baby is born