Sandpaper And Satin

Would you do a dance
On those blistered hands
That came from the shrill wind
Scraping and spitting sandpaper
In the air as it moves?
Would you do a dance
With those legs stretched
Thin like satin
Inside your skin; it's hard not
To breathe in the fumes
With nostrils so close as
Arms are pushed magnetic
To a paper thin space.
Would you do a dance
To this pulse like a siren
In the distance goes
Beyond sound and takes on
The form of a blue flame
In this hollow chest.
Refusing was a mistake that
May shut off the valve.

Nature In The Ghetto

Nature in the ghetto
Go slow and gentle still,
While outside the cage
Birds find prostitutes
Like trees breathe in the sun.

The wilderness is traveling here,
But motion makes these old men
Weak and time will cease
Beyond those hills.
Fortune bear us no ill will.

A Dream In July

Hovering there between two trees,
That colorful cocoon and a rest
So gentle like the breeze, it
Seemed to quiet even the most
Annoying of sounds coming from a
Strange, yet familiar dogwood tree.
Through a mask of weathered age
It spoke quick, pulling nails
To end the suspension of it's
Own future of sheltering this
Devil and his growing army
Of forgetful men. Fire is heaven
And steel a living hell and the
Roots keep growing, even after death.

History, The Whore

But then we've all woken up
With stacks of books in our bed,
Waking quickly spilling coffee
All over the dress that was
Supposed to pull his sunken eyes
Away from the other boy you
Saw him kissing in the shower.

The river was made but never told
Which way to flow, but you
Will build a shrine of a dam
With misguided money mistaken for love.
Such a bold use of history,
Like the way you change your skin
In the summer when it's moral
To seduce. This must not be all
Things to such delicate and
Yet-to-flower wings, too soft
For sandpaper and too colorful
To photograph in black and white.

No More Ignoring

By now we should be better men
Softly tilling hearts in tender soil,
Speaking like the sun in an endless
Afternoon of windless water and open air.
But the same rays that warm
Fade the stain on the oak and
Penetrate the layers of those
Who don't belong.

Progress is less appealing as a step
To the right of the things we
Bear proudly on our chests,
Cut open and bleeding to our last
Engineered breath. This form of
Extinction will be our dead end.

We Need The Heat

No breath from my mouth
Shall disturb your perfect hair
In every perfect place.
When conversation comes easy
Like sweat in the summer,
Drag slow and pull under
The sweet thickness of the air.

And I will spread silently
The skin inside your hands.

Such Beautiful Seeds

Before morning in the air
The welcome is an open palm,
Or a sturdy redwood
Stretched to the open sky.
Many men of iron are dull
To the touch of a warm breeze,
But strength is the bending
Root of the charming tree.
Such beautiful seeds
With flesh in my flesh,
Towering over this seedling
That planted a memory
On the hill by the lake.
The roots are meeting now
In an angel's afterthought,
Soft like the grass
And warm like the sea.