Hot Dog Stand

Angel trapped in a barbeque's body,
I will be there for you
when you are ready to transform.

My First Val Kilmer Nature Poem

 

I think that I shall never see

Val Kilmer eating watermelon

lovelier than a tree.

The texture of fear

The texture of fear is holy, like a religion people sing about on television.

Select all.  Delete.

A Springtime Dream

 

When the dirty horse chomps

pretty jays in its jaws, they spark

the bluest blue sparks.

It's always Christmas in the mountains

Ellen the geneticist in her plaid jacket spoke
and sent the Earth evolving,
filling our veins with sparrows and shards
of vibrato-shattered windows
as the ground began to eat its figures.

You could do it too, she urged
and like ice, like hope, we grew crystallin-clear
infinitely reduplicated
in the mirrored windows of the testing facility.

What should we say?
God's face founded a zebra prince
clanging the bars of his cage with a can
crying, Yoo hoo!
Ho ho! Merry Christmas!

They had lived and worked together so much
the researcher caught herself
telling the zebra prince's stories
as though they were her own.

When Ellen the geneticist in her plaid jacket spoke
she said, What's not to say?
The earth was fallow before we had our say.
Throw the transparent wrapper
of your disposable camera into the air
and take a photo of it falling:

One day we will breed the ultimate window.

Check out these creatures of the forest!

Wind Wound Wound