It all becomes clear
the black-tinted World-Spirit blows from carafes
wind-legs spreadout like fin and
wing in water and air
so that he damns himself decomposer juggler of his
bones cottonwool bridges
he who rolls fruits and rolls birds across the sky
and grinds guidestones like an organ
thus we climb out of him nothing holds us back
and measure twelve bushels of shadow three ells of owls
and are fathomdeep rosegrass
he seduced the swan
he reversed the watershed
he makes neither flowers or ado
he carries a small glass cask
vain is the crown of his head and his mind and carries
mountains and lustre within
at dawn-red at cannon-messinger he must die along with
his core and choir and individual voice
and taps the tuning forks on the thin trunks of his bodies'
and mints his blood in small kettles
and splashes the angular night with stars
yes waxwardrobe weather-sheaf-chimes
and when someone doesn't want to there is someone who
wants to and must and can again and would like to and
fills the glasses to the rim and laughs and
neither feels nor smells the other therefore the cradles
The Butterfly incident
A butterfly flashed into my face
A stopwatch image of colorful contrasts
Gold as the promise of love
Black as the trap of hate
Just an instant, then away
A slight smudge on my glasses
Where has it gone
Is it still alive?
What balm for the bites have you
brought for me
What balm for bites you
brought to me
For the burns I've got
For the burns you brought
Late last night about to have a fit
Trying to write a new musical hit
Early in the morning, about a quarter to three
Picking on my guitar till my fingers bleed
I couldn't think of what it could be
Till i finally decided I could write about me
So, by golly, I've written an ode
Here it is my own genetic code
It's a big long string of chemical goo
All mooshed together in a sticky brew
It makes my nose and it makes my toes
And all that gooey stuff inside, I suppose
It makes my head, up under my hat
My brains too, I'm not sure about that
It's what puts my foot in front of my heel
It's what gives me my sex appeal
Four basic lumps thar come in pairs
Making the hip and making the squares
About a billion or so making you and me
Just a couple more than a chimpanzee
All twisted up in a great long rope
Making the mailman, making the pope
You've got some too, don't feel slighted
Just remember now mine's copyrighted.
I used to keep my heart
Locked safe in a steel vault
I've learned since then
An imprisoned heart cannot breathe
Now I keep it in a bullet proof vest
Strong but flexible
Getting ready today to leave on the Arizona trip bright and early tomorrow morn.
Probably won't be able to post for awhile.
We are not taking any computers with us on the train..
Maybe I'll be able to go to a coffee shop and mug some nerd, I mean borrow or rent someone else's
But don't plan on it,
Talk amongst yourselves.
A picture, then good bye
Hmmmm........I was going to put the picture here but I like it better up there.
It's a famous rock in Wyoming.
Independence or steamboat or waffle iron or something.