It is snowing in Athens tonight & Apollo with ice in his beard
is having a difficult time singing
About six twin engine miniplanes have crashed coast to coast
in empty fields & a Bank of America building
My love, you know that death is both a separation
and a permanent glue
You know that I am the son of a patient duct tape expert
and the daughter of a wine never allowed to age
Love, we are all things to each, we are needy in just the ways
each other needs but doesn’t yet comprehend
In the open fields of Somalia there are civilians running circles
freaked out shivering they might be next
From a satellite 10,000 miles above earth, like an empty chair
with telescope
a disembodied human eye stares at us & stares at Columbia
he is looking below the oceans for new caves
He is looking for people who are not yet in favor of empty chairs
placing nuclear-tipped dynamite in empty caves
The danger is real, one can feel it in the air
even if unsure from which directions it is borne
We are all getting older, we have realized this year it’s time
to get serious about ducking death’s temporary wings
Time to get our 10-dimensional affairs in order, between your
big toe and its chipped nail
there is a fire-breathing vulture just waiting for the dimensional wall
to collapse even for a millisecond
History repeats itself but sometimes as a young student pilot
unsure how to create an effective farce
My dear, the vulture escaped for my 45th birthday last night
it was in our bedroom pecking below the sheets
It has eaten us alive and regurgitated us back into this world–
time will tell whether we are healthier than before
The Weather Seems Different
Poems
January 2002