What a woman, hooks men like rugs

She weaves that fine
thinning hair of lover's
long past
culls
those cotton fields of
lazy kisses
of dawning light on
sweet slack cheeks

Energy glows at the lips

the reed in your teeth
is a lullaby to ears tender like kiwis
a pygmalian yodel
dips below the horizon
of descending strip malls
and your lips
glow in memory
of summer blueberries

For sun and moon and radio

third of three

Beyond what

Laundry steam presses up against
a rare soft/cold city air
not far from where the
tire swing killed the man last month.

You can give away your
adjustable can opener
or you can come home to
your brother frying bacon
with a lonely face.

You can straighten the path out
or keep reaching
behind your partner's back
beyond what     

My life by water

a flat
     rock cove
edged
     in pines
s  t  r  e  t  c  h  e  d              u   s                   o  u  t


in days
     when beyond
an arm's width
     wasn't     d  r  i  f  t  i  n  g      
heresy
   
but the    s  p  r  e a  d      
     of tight,
hot atoms


still finding
     a special stone
with an
     unbroken line
meant:
     stow it in your pocket
and tell no
                one