Anima Mundi
In the beginning: nothing
the helix of bios --
a Pollock on nonentity
spiralling, squiggling
verb was made flesh
(transmogrification, not tailoring
should be the first art
movement)
and dwelt among us
as in u:s -- Trinity
of the information
highway reality
rewarped, redefined, that is
the new cyber-time/space
intertextual-age notion.
Yes, us if you can find the Upright Eyes
betwixt the Chomskian truncation
of The You, and linking verb as Hiss
or, wring-everything-out-for-all-its-worth
(cosmos is cramped, closed for comfort)
to get to your own meaning or, you lose
your Being
then, you're back
to the beginning
of everything: nothing.
Philosophy of Water
Your wars
shallower than all
the world's childrens'
pools:
miry puddles
of mis(placed/u)sed
communications.
Another word
we are heaving you off
to the brim
of unreason:
3/4 slug
1/4 amphibian
See you in your wet dreams.
Or, check your water sign.
No Warm Blankets Again Tonight
My clothesline hung low again today
Old trusty wind didn't come blowing
Through some needful implements
Ominously-hooded nimbus
Break into a million black ninjas
At the crack of thunderwhip
Falling with pinprick precision
picking scabs of fresh tiny wounds --
a special robe I wash and wear daily
Now old trusty rain comes
soaking wet again parched pathways
shuddering dainty flowers in my vase.
Later shaking cold and dripping wet
I shall lay myself to sleep
as my trusty visitor knocks at the door.