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at the rivermouth

we walked out the longest way

to sea   suddenly turned


we met the tide engulfing

hurrying inland over


rippling mounds of mud

quickening (as we were)


in rilling currents over

cockle beds ground


shellfish green and rust

seaweeds pulling shoreward


  a creamy foam frothed

swirling up our ankles    and


two empty crab shells afloat

rushing silently past

larval dream

i wish i

could lie with you

for the rest

of this life

all curled up


in a cocoon


then we could rise

as twin butterflies

to spend

one endless day

in the sun

journey to love

don't believe me when i tell you

i love you    for as my words devolve


they give no more reassurance than

their easy predecessors—also words


  yet stretched out as we are here

embracing on the sofa    remember when


just like now    through the open window

blew in on us that gust    how engulfing


was that glow of ethereal tongues    and we

naked    sipping our full red wine


meanwhile the tumultuous rose

stems crimson from the clear decanter


poised upon the laden white bookshelf

the air    subtly invaded by its scent


with thorns darting shivers down my spine

over which sings an egyptian diva


the strings played cleaving to her voice

just as the silk clings to your skin


while the room's become a drum's inside

to a beat tracing the longest journey


where love isn't made out of language

but from the intricacies of the route

woman and crane: graffito

on the vast wall

of a central service station

a stylized painting of


a naked woman

her arched body flung back

into an almost circle


to convey ecstasy

with her feet and hands

almost meeting to intimate


the sun with her glaring

yellow against morocco

blue    she faces a tow truck:


a colossal craned tip

erected to touching her

thighs' parted lips

in concert

the giggles and the scattered shrieks

rose with the crowd's reseating

  the eliciting intruder    a graceful bat


soon caught the shifting throng of heads

to and fro throughout the vast hall

and seeming not to seek a passage out


it looked content to glide about our midst

a veritable stranger to these parts

this blood relation    an atavistic mystery


from a nocturnal mythic past    to us

who greeted him with fear-tinged laughter

till someone's coat was flung to net him


then turn him out into the night

to wild applause as for a master's work ...

but even to the Brahms an echo hovered


a ghost accompaniment in web-winged flight

a memory batting through the soaring movements

before receding unto dim primeval lairs



a snow bound landscape

a sigh at a window


breath revealing

patterns on a pane


  two names

keep quickly disappearing


against the cold

on a bus pointing south


  now the snow

slowly diminishes    slowly



toward a time


all will be gone

  while turning under me


ever unravelling

the curvature of your ground



travelling on

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