jornales

for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

three works (they say/about the spheres/interpretentions)

 

1.

they say

mountain clouds

implode in a colic

 

a stare brings on

revolts

 

snow buntings invite

green eyes

 

fibrous bones

roll down a mulch hill

 

a rasp in his caws

one catches

 

wild weeds

pierce fresh wombs

 

in a clam shell

of not-thereness

 

2.

 

about the spheres

 

a wink enough
to lift
the moon’s hem

a slivered blue
licks paradise

part grit part
fluff the foaming universe

constellations stringing rocks into falsies

concoctions a boom of moon craters

 

3.

 

interpretentions

 

with my lips, I accept the many ways grass wears dew that Van Gogh kept secret

 

I agonize so much so that my stomach contracts regurgitating Dali’s white lies

 

a valley of lilies I hurtle into with eyes closed on Monet skinny dipping

 

the spastic leg throws of marionettes as Picasso dreamt I can

 

together shedding barnacles from cliffs chipped clean in cubes Mondrian says his own

 

thieves inhabit the hippocampus of dawn beetles scaling the spirals of Gaudi’s nights

 

my singed heart hurts so the onyx solitaire Klee entraps with dancing threads

 

 

otata April 2017

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February 15, 2018 - Posted by | fragments, haiku, poetry, sequence | , , , , , ,

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