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the moment of open eyes |
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jets lace the sky with silk smoke webs decaying like sound |
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barney disarms the army |
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we rescue a loon |
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we tend to favor the status quo. zia haider rahman, in the light of what we know |
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the barney strut |
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archaic torso |
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tell mama, please |
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star mill |
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sheep in the graveyard. some catastrophe unlocated. |
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she call her loon call and my heart pulls up like a kite |
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she needs help today |
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she turns an cries like a babe, in fear and appeal. |
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rest, i will send for help. |
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prison ship shame |
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baby loon |
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broken heart on a winter beach |
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oh honey, i hope you make it. |
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i called the bird rescue and they came to get you. i imagine you now in a warm enclosure remembering this scary moment with a feather shuffling happy shudder. |
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attempts to belong fail till grown over with moss and lay like petroglyphs under blankets spongy living and dead. hundreds of years pass and the developers come. |
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no. i think the caretaker was excessive. i think the chartaker unnecessary. i think he carried poison on his person. i think he was old and died. i think the coyotes shat on his stamp of earth. |
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maxime gets miffed |
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maxime tries to treat-block copp. |
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like a voice from a very small valley. |
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isitso |
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i saw a mound with a dead tree and a blurred red scarf and imagined the caretaker buried not here but on a small crusty moon with dead grass. |
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i think she's relaxing a little and i hate to leave her. |
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i wasn't anyone today |
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i saw a tidal head somewhere too, and subsequently wished i had married them. |
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i long to hear you now |
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i draw closer to a loon in distress |
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i couldn't concentrate, i was concentrated somewhere else i imagine, though i know not where that would be. |
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day by day, oh dear lode |
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he felt at home only in a miniature world the world had passed by. |
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copp meets loon, gets a little close, gets a peck, small howl of surprise. |
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circles with fences. |
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two year old charlie haden singing a country tune and tiny yodeling, and looking at a hurting loon, the two songs mingle in tears. |
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barney was stuck in the kitchen again today |
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two classics |
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beak twisted by toxic waste |
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aftermath |
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