maybe its time to look at
a brighter thing
the sky smokes enough
blackness

straight lines

an old man sits, singing at
the break of dawn,pulling
the sun with his hands
that take him places

His days have been spent
rolling wheels and the nights, rolling over
death hangs from the rooftop
pouting at the heads below

He looks up every night
like a bent tree waiting to grow
to the sky

marigold

sitting atop a motionless train
a headless eagle
wavers to the wind
like a nymphet,
to a song sung by boxes
behind glass doors

a tunnel tapers like night
on a train moving away
the girl stands bare feet
with the end in her eyes

Land of the rising sun

Crowning a linnet's gore
the sun now sets
in arms of the evening child
who kicks the earth
to bury and find..

china

i deposit my dreams
in a china
simmering with
new puberty every night,
strut to your window
wait under the rails
of all promises broken
just to see your shadow

i  wake up each morning
feeling i never came back