Paint splatter on spruce trees

There is a blue sky
reflecting in the eyes of a hornet
with layers of iridescent color
that man's eye can only
begin to see.

There is a wide tree
with roots at the base that
burrow further into the ground
than any one man can dig.

There is a true love
that rises every morning
bright and alive
affectionate and caring
that ceases to shine only when
man's eyes are too heavy to appreciate
its light.

a long life, a balanced diet

on a rainy day i saw
disquieting mountaintops grumbling something
to my stomach about mortality.
"if i was going to live forever
i wouldn't smoke cigarettes,"
you explained, sick in bed
with strep throat and oatmeal. it
reminded me of my mother who
had taught me strict definitions
of nutrition, though i think
those definitions have changed. maybe
the food pyramid is 3-dimensional now,
a 2-dimensional pyramid can
only say so much, like photographs of
the countryside which are very nice but
after a while fall flat.
I met a man with a flat liver,
"i wish i wasn't an alcoholic. i used to
think i'd live forever," he said but
he only drank a glass of
red wine a day so i didn't
believe him. i once decided
to try nature photography, i
was going to hike up a mountain but
it had been raining and i thought of
erosion, wondering if the mountain would be
flat one day but the trail was
steep, slippery and wet so i went home. You were
feeling better and you
bummed me a cigarette.

Will I Forget Who I am.

Does your mouth taste like alcohol?

Make a drink.

Problem solved.

the language barrier

once i saw
a japanese businessman
speaking frustrated painful japanese
to an american girl working the lobby
of a fine chicago hotel
they were both talking rapidly
and neither understood a damn word
the other said
it was no surprise
considering all the literate,
english-speaking folks in the same hotel
who have just as much trouble as that japanese man
understanding the girl when she says
"please, calm down."

You're Just In Time

All day, sounds from the White City’s streets litter spring scenes
like gum stains stuck to sidewalks during black paved dreams.
Never to be wakened.

Never to be disturbed unless on the off chance that their concrete roots are relieved
of their imprisonment and molded back into the safe molten surface
from whence they initially came.

Trains billow by the street like a jet’s sonic boom circa 1948.
Nuclear weapon drills mean kids under seats.
“Duck and cover” translates to the image of “dust all over.”

Because that’s all there is going to be.
Nice new sneakers?
Dust all over.

Nice Christmas sweater?
Dust all over.
Picture postcard from across the sea?

Duck and cover.
Phone message from a loved one in a dire time of need,
dust all over.

Garbage trucks and sixteen wheelers are 21^st century tombs.
Embalmed in filth by means of crisply baked bones.
Contents speckled white,

left to sparkle like a diamond setting foot
on an ancient Cambodian clay-
more mines.