City Block

Same smeared face

Of the moon faints

Toward Earth

Into the rain that pools in the broken cups.

The kids in the street

Bang their hands against the old

Can lids

Imitating stars.

They rattle with a fierce


For transcendence.

It is as simple as that.

Dents We Call Life

The petals of sitting

Alone on a ledge of a

Wall. The city here is

Industrial, abandoned.

I like the wild flowers

And the shrubs. I like

The graffiti. When the

Sun sets on the abandoned automobile

Mouths, on the rail road

Ties. I think of a daring childhood.

Blood brothers with surrealism.

Or the raw patterns of

Broken panes.

The stars and planets sitting on time

Making dents in space.

How armies of sky

Take one leaf at a time

And rattle them green bones,

Shattering the air

Of its clear perpendiculars.

Never Easy

You shook your head. This wasn’t
Going to be easy.

I held you up for the stars to seethe.
But more to the point.

Your bald feet nibbled on the
Wild stairs.

Hands became bodies. Hands
As beautiful as a trapeze.

A curfew of pulled nails.
You brought a hammer.

Are me. I am you.

I shook my head. This wasn’t
Going to be easy.