223.
Then again the linden trees this year
blossomed
we sleep and wake in the scent of
them
pale obscure little flowers that fill
the night air
but am I a character in your epic
uneasy narrative of words spewing
words
stochastic craziness full of ancient
Greek
when I just want to smell the flowers
rest again on someone’s cheek
as if the war had never shattered my
electron shell
left me gasping naked on the shingle
beach
before the monsters crept back to the
deep
and the ospreys dropped fish for me
to eat.
224.
Long comber by the shore of ease
why did we ever leave
who are you talking to now
in red or in bed
the harsh bondage of rhyme
subtle bondage of sound
by clang alone bring matter in J.T.
will heal the legend lost souls of
this pale day
find me kindling for my water
dig a hole in air and shove me in
the sound of a word is a niche around
me
sense turns me marble from head to
toe.
