yet dancing with the youthful world of
Cinderella,
she plunges deeper near death into Tibetan
mysticism,
trekking across snow covered mountains to
Lhasa, Tibet.
Nighttime rest, sleepy face, peeking out
that window crack
into the nest, those quiet villages
below
tasting a reality beyond her years.
Painted Cat
(V2)
This painted cat on my balcony hangs in this sun, bleaches
out it's wooden survival kit, cut short- then rots chips
paint cracks widen in joints, no infant sparrow wings
nestled in this hole beneath its neck- then falls down. No
longer a swinger in latter days, August wind.
Oh Carol,
Poem
You treat me like soiled underwear.
I work my way through.
I gave up jitterbug dancing, that
cha-cha-chá,
all my eccentric moves, theatric acting,
poetry slams.
I seek refuge away old films, nightmares
you jumping from my raspberry Geo Chevy
Tracker
repeat you stunt from my black 2002 S-10
Chevy truck, Schaumburg, IL.
I toss tarnished photographs out windows of
hell
seek new selfies, myself.
Im a rock-in-roll Jesus, a damn good
poetry man,
talent alone is not enough storage space to
strip
you away from my skin, distant myself from
your
ridicule, those harsh words you cant
take back
once they are out like Gorilla Glue, as Carl
Sandburg spoke about.
Im no John Lennon want to be;
body sculptured David Garrett, German violin
masterpiece,
nor Ace Hardware, Midwest, CEO.
All I want to be respected in heart of my
bright sun,
engaging these shadows endorsing these gray
spots in my life.
Send me away from these drum beats that
break me in half,
jungle thunder jolts dislodging my heart
popping my earlobes over the years,
scream out goodbye.
No more stepping on me cockroach style,
swatting me, a captured fly.
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