preposterous snowflakes of restitution.
snowflakes of many wheeled concerns.
snowflakes of horses running through burning barns.
collections of snowflakes hiding
inside Faberge eggs
snowflakes melting with abandon and bliss
the moment they land on the top of a wave
in the ocean.
snowflakes of peacocks worrying themselves
like supermodels rushing to meet fleeting rock stars through
the leggy streets of new york.
snowflakes of passion and amber.
snowflakes born from fire dancing up through chimney
to imitate stars and fireflies.
snowflakes beating their heads against the prison walls
wanting to take away all the pain
from every prisoner . . . for however long
snowflakes swirling in the heart, like in a snow-globe,
resting then swirling, resting then swirling,
ever re-newing joy.
A panther looks me in the eyes from a cave in the back of my brain––
whether he is purring or growling is hard to say.
The thunder murmur from his chest and throat stays at low boil,
without effort, asleep or awake.
Whether it is a he or a she is also hard to say––
it seems to change back and forth––at times very feminine,
at times masculine––
always languid with a capacity for immediate
This panther lives in a cave at the back of my skull
and I would like to let it roam more freely through my body––
claw my heart––crawl through my bones––
leap out of my eyes or mouth as anger and passion,
move my feet,
turn my hands to claws.
If my body were as relaxed as the muscles of a panther at rest
there is nothing I could not accomplish.
mountain green vibration humming distraction.
windows are for looking or opening.
doors are various joys and surrenders and escapes.
and sometimes after thousands of miles
I stand facing the very same door again––
it is the same door, but I don’t know
if I’m the same person. Maybe
I was green then and now I’m blue.
Or red. Like the clouds keep changing.
Unless it is just one cloud. Or,
Maybe I’m a cloud, over a mountain.
Evaporating again. Or falling
like rain. On my way to the ocean.
oblivious of the obvious the obvious
genius of retribution and confusion
stumbled across the parking lot of
black asphalt at high noon casting
barely a shadow as thin as a penny
delirious and thirsty suddenly claiming
salvational forgiveness immersed in visions
of particulate wavelengths shooting
through him at the speed of light
he decided right then in that eternalish
momentum to change and stop muttering
his normal nonsense about payback
slapback paddywhack who
cared anymore man his heart
burst open and he spun around hit
the ground jumped back up said
hallelujah and then kept walking
less heavy than a feather and finally
out behind the nitro-glycerine factory
where the kids were playing
with dynamite sticks,
it seemed to me
there was a bit of tension
in the air––
and Betty and I were bickering
Finally, it rained,
and everyone had to go home.
I asked Betty
what we were fighting about––
she took a deep breath,
then started laughing,
and said she couldn’t remember
When we got home we noticed,
that in spite of the rain,
our house had burned down
while we were out.
Don’t worry about it, said Betty,
this gives us a good excuse
to stay at that posh hotel downtown,
get out of town altogher.
Wake up groggy, nonplussed, flummoxed, disoriented and
above all…too early
Moan and Groan quite a bit.
If anyone is within hearing range. . . whine, complain, stub your toe
on the leg of a chair and scream in agony.
Hop up and down on one foot, while holding the stubbed
foot in your hand, 3 times.
Stumble into the bathroom
Stare at the disastrous landscape of your face in the mirror for five or ten
seconds, while the water is running.
Test the water to see if it is hot
It is. Add some cold water by turning the tap slightly.
Now, as you begin to wash your face, start humming
an obnoxious show tune or ad-jingle
and go into a sort of a trance.
Rinse your face
Do Not Dry Your Face.
While your face is still steamy and wet, generously lather it with shaving cream.
Continue humming. Now. Grab the razor (gently…gently). O.k.
Tilt your heat to the right and start on the left sideburn,
drag the razor down your face firmly and swiftly.
Stay in as deep a trance as possible.
Now the right side.
Now the neck…careful…watch out for that Adam’s Apple
OUCH…you cut it again…a pity
Watch it bleed
Watch the blood mingle with the shaving cream
Looks kind of like a strawberry shortcake
Don’t taste it, you’ll be disappointed.
Under the nose is a bit tricky
slow down there
and careful, gently around the lips
Start groaning again and get dressed.
Look at the time!
Once again the act of shaving has carried you away
You’re late for work again!