American Birdsong

I suppose this loneliness will last
for the rest of my life.

A Truck Stop Lot

the eager midnight haze in the Dream of America:

Shingles

I'm up early, patching the roof of the summer house.

A Day in the West Desert

slow down—hey, slow down:
I cannot believe
and the Texas sky is a cavity

Serenading the Dead

An overcast Sunday—the led-dark curtain of clouds

The Dance of Symbols

I wasn't good enough for a lot of them.
Louisville whiskey helps me to realize

Appalachia

It's raining out through the white smoke,
out around the tar and resin foothills of the
Appalachias

Something Like Sleep

Come in and find me here, lost in bed;
creaking, paint-chipped door awakening

The Prodigal

What am I to you, kind father,
that my gaunt body must go on

The Samaritan

I am not who you thought I am
         on the road from Jerusalem
to Jericho

The Paralytic

I will meet you in Capernaum, once the
        great garble of the hobnobbers
is passed

Alleluia

Alleluia. The noble Earth is not fragmented:

Ballade in F Minor

Love stands and is quiet in the brusque drawing room,
the oily hollow chest heaves and the rusted bars

Shrovetide Holiday

Take me where the garland-strewn lights
whisper something to me:

When Your Body Becomes an Antique

When your body becomes an antique,
     of a rosewood or ivory-bent form that
     I can hardly remember

Une Valse de Chopin

The clear melody carries the clavier voice;
the sun-embroidered street steeping in the
lost strands of noise

Clair de Lune

Strange moonlight, with the brassy
        taffeta sleeves, is draped
over the bay

The Salt of My Earth

You were the salt of my earth for a time, an earth breathing,
wrinkled and ancient, in the black bed of the stars

A Peach Tree in Georgia

but the cypress arms and peaches whistle
from their branches, hush the cat-calls of bull
frogs and locusts

The Jazz Singer

An 80's midwest late-summer noir short

Gypsy

A Russian Empire tale

Впервые быть Адамом

Каково самочувствие быть Адамом?

Gymnopédie

As-tu trouvé la poussiéreuse melodie
De mon âme nue

"You are gone, and in the desert" (After Blok)

You are gone, and in the desert
I buried my face in sand