Picking up the pieces

Well see— he’d already named the animals!
I didn’t really have anything to do, yes we did
Walk in the garden every evening..
I must admit maybe I was bored & the serpent
Was an intellectual & he made me laugh & I was laughing when I tasted it.
I wanted to change names of some of the animals,
I must admit I never asked if I could,
Neither of them said I couldn’t..
Just seemed like it was a bargain already made, oh he would do anything for me!
& well I didn’t even know that he hadn’t named all the animals
Didn’t find that out til, well
after we were outside & some of these other animals seemed to be intent on eating us
Oh this surprised me, this thing called fear, but I like eating meat!
& now I’m not bored with him any more I must admit
He protects & takes care of me, but these children, oh if I didn’t
Have him, as much as I love them, it would be impossible..
But you know I think someday one of them will kill the other
&  I cannot imagine this..
I do miss those walks
When it was that love was as constant as air..
Now there are only times when I look at him & vaguely remember..
Still he can be bad
Now he growls & once after drinking he hit me & this was not like him &
I bled, & now I bleed regularly &
What have we done?
I killed the snake last week & after I did
I heard him laugh from the grove in the garden we can’t go into any more,
But then again maybe it was from the forest beyond,
& I’m afraid of that place..
I couldn’t tell & anyway I saw the snake again the next day
I know where there are flowers by a quiet pool
Perhaps I could go there and come back?
If I leave him it will be dangerous
Perhaps I’ll go there and come back..
Oh, my heart breaks when he screams in the middle of the night!

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I will continue to seek visions and count on my friends to know everything

I dreamed I was in 1962, in a department store dressing room
w/ Lana Turner, who told me she had to adjust
her nylon stocking and didn’t mind
if I looked–and I awoke and remembered that year
I had been in a desk behind the cloak room in my
eighth grade English teachers classroom
(who hated me, and whose name I’ve long ago forgotten)
where I’d  been put for being a smart ass
& was napping & it was really Joanie
& Janet that I had known since they were girls
but but that year they were no longer girls & they really were letting me watch,
skirts hiked up athletic like race horses
w/ black back seamed nylons w/garterbelts
and just above were taught tight heavenly white thighs
pure as driven snow & I remembered that dream ended too…

Love may be

 

Love may be a greybearded old man
giving great belly laughs out of
a tobacco stained yellow shirt
while small birds light and perch
and small children play in vacant
lots and an osprey fishes in cold
northwest waters with its aerial
view of trout making headway against
currents & we in complacency
think of all the sane reasons not
to watch the six o’clock news as
three women in Puerto Vallarta wrap
crayfish with cornmeal in husks
to steam into tamales for their
children to sell on the beach, all
for what we have to have..