The Green Lake Is Awake

CROSS FIRE

This is the second day without anyone.
I am chinning against a dark sky
to strengthen my arms.
A picture of everyone I love passes through me.

No clear light streams thru this cell.
There's no dawn.
What have I gained
by lying in this abyss,
waiting for the masonry 
to show a little slit
for my soul to get through?

DRUNKEN WINTER

Oak oak! like like
it then
    cold some wild paddle
so sky then;
flea you say
"geese geese" the boy
June of winter
of again
Oak sky

 

INRI

BLOODSUCKER

Break it all down!
We're too mesmerized
to break from
this vampire, America.

 

MISTAKE

When I button my fly
I button it wrong
and I laugh.
My crotch looks lopsided.

 

INFINITE THUNDER

What a beautiful storm!
Infinite thunder!
Wishing to be home
No wonder.

 

GHOSTS OF SPRING

The ghost of Spring
has reappeared,
clearing my throat
of winter
I make the first move

 

Millenium Dust

AFTER IMAGE

Nobody can get inside me
until the angels get there first.
A vision stands scratching his wing on the other side.
Two angels fly among the trees.
O ocean that stops my blood
O sun! That dries it up
O clouds that carry it off
and the courage inside our tough organism
        that loses life so easily.

Think what you want 
        about the uselessness 
        of art for art's sake,

or science as a social metaphor.

Neither can change
        this world

or become a comrade to the enslaved 
embittered masses
or a ruby in the elite crown 
of the greedy few.

That is why nobody is allowed inside me
until the angels 

bring their defiant message 
to reconstruct the resumption 
        of life everlasting
                          of love, of hope.

 

PERPETUAL LIFE

 
The sun disappears behind hills,
a white light still remains.
No pink or red or orange
with tight purple streaks, 

through a white cloud.

I suddenly feel
we can never be destroyed,
but I know otherwise.
        It's only a daydream
        an overwhelming breeze
a constriction that I can't see
opening up in the heart
on a warm evening.

 

Spring In This World of Poor Mutts

LIGHTHOUSE

  All this summer fun.
The big waves, and waiting
(the moon is broken)
for the moon to come out
and revive the water.  You look
and you want to watch as
men feel the beer breaking
on their lips, and women seem like
the sun on your little back.
Where are you closer to everything?
in the plants?  on the photograph or
the little heart that's not 

used to beating like the waves' foam?
          A wasp is
looking for a hole in the screen.
No.  There's no man in the lighthouse.
There's no woman there, but there is
a light there; it's a bulb.
And I think how complete you are 
in its light.  Flash......... Flash.....
....................................
And I think of how our own room 
will smell; You lying on one bed
and we in the other,
facing the... flash.....
.....................Flash

 

NOTHING

Nothing exists that does no empty.
Who are you feeling? 
Who do you bite in the morning?
Our health?
when we're sick


is the body coming.

        Our love,
a mountain fuming
    in the ocean


like a graceful race such as
black.  When the shores overtake
in the continent.
When the heroes are phony,
and our house less than rubble
will there be a bite, a memory still left?

TRANSMIGRATION SOLO

LIGHTS OF CHILDHOOD

You light like a flashlight
something through
the west of worn shades.
    All this great fun
    and you like a dark
    of misunderstanding only
    bring a large sample of green
    while people dance to 
    rock and roll in spanish.
    All the littles on the wall watching

    while the parrot and the dog again sleep.

The moon like a 
stopped cannon ball:
so little difference between us.
I search the corners for you
and I am drunk in a park 
or a hallway at night.
Being in the street
is being gone in
the largest apple in the universe.

 

DINOSAURS OF PAIN

There are no dinosaurs
but man suffers still more.
    Morning, roaring
    tiger of trying to keep.

In the engine silo,

    there are no dinosaurs
    of pain that are hurried
    enough: Morning Star!

TRANSMIGRATION SOLO

See the black bird
in that tree
trying out the branches, puzzled.
I am up there with you
puzzled against the rain
blinking my eyes.

A STORY FROM THE BUSHMEN

"Are you an eland?"  Yes!  Yes!
She ran off to the primeval forest
and there gave birth to an eland
Her husband holding the calf to his
chest ran to the hills:  placed
the beautiful child in a fault
which was surrounded by other faults
among the hills /
While the child grew,  he (the husband)
created all the animals and
ways in which the animals were to 

be caught; and also the wind which
was to follow the animals
being hunted
Their child, the eland, had grown horns
and only the sun was more
beautiful than he  But other
sons of the father of the eland crossed
the little calf in his sleep
and killed it because it was more
beautiful than anything they had ever seen.
Their father who had created
all animals tore off the noses of his
sons who had killed without
knowing what they had killed.  But later
saying "No I won't do this,"
put their noses back on
      The wife cleaned her pots and
put the blood from her dead
eland son mixed with the fat from
its heart: and stirred, stirred
then sprinkling it about, each drop
became an eland which
ran into the woman with his horns
   See!  you have ruined the
   eland:  and thousands were made
        And the father ordered the
sons to hunt the elands and to
see whether they could kill one
But Cagn, the father was
in the elands: and none
could be killed:
because they were even faster
than any cloud


sonne bell   Sonne guilt like the
unrosed stark  Ecstasy gen
d'alume no world
disbanishment unlook  See!  See!

                   occident am the sky
To cistern insist we lie
Swim, World!
deja everything already
and see


Peaks grand the fruit soleil o
  turbule wept for lily
    oh see     That nights
Border irreverant sweet for wounds
     like the careful orion and
       blooms

Is the sky husk moldy
unison newal o please?
Sickle mads pro other weak
reef annoy mew
among o sway tones musing at
Lo lo dull off the forest,
moon frozen.  Emptier that


shook.  Oh upon
         of songs   Breathe!


grateful soccer monet churning oh savage
of must  Overboard! small laquel embraced
Once are the alley easily
of supine  once
stood!  bad!
suffer and village!



   O scarcely
verge o stings  Where is a new
    beg of morning matin?
            "yes" of the hand?


delve sky against  Nude
mandarin d'etoile
A tour of slept Slept!: the pacific
  the vine of orange of
             sommeil


Mads of dawn! Rape of you you....
   o the autumn sand


Mounting!
  O dive!
song song restay fairness of
dawn.  That cry of
booze that sparrow
of soul "miradel"
unique justly lotus
nothingless char of sunday.
Vicious of moon for the actual.
Live digress


Old like the praise cast
still at day    Assuage
of rose of eye
lovingly sun

   O sun with the dreadful
of kind      Man! full! of the organ
                     of move
Shoulder are the vines
are the plus are the
autumn of found are the fallen
blank are the aussi
     the loping soon
           the wet

blank the soleil les fleurs
the Force of rainbow
    shout the fishing
quell quell.  River of sacred
         pitifully fairly


   admiring cane from

       cane one enemy sings
to find to
        bird oh
  ladel of fix
    oh severally plund of
cruel, like mars
    for my earth,
like loom for the understand.


To need am the fly
The breathe no pavillion to this
pain.  Nape, so
the precipice is june  But for the
villanous level joyous
as the town so play


*Spring and Summer 1961