Three mystical poems
Mostly musical these poems are happy to move along like creatures concealed in plain-clothed English.
Basura renge Not perceiving but receiving magic unmeasured and looking up through openings wide, I call to myself as if to a campfire. The light filters through as words. That it is possible to fly calling ever deeper through recursion, self propagating through its own made space. Each dimension is a deity outstretched, pointing new directions to view. Doesn’t matter if they don’t exist, they already emerged said as a spell, performative. And it’s strewn here like a bubble. - Waltz for Jin Chan Three toed three legged three toothed smile, waltz on a tripod, a cauldron's beguile. Deep dove the ladle from cradle to grave. Compact. Tetrahedral. I am only 2/3 of you who enthrone wherever you sit to engage your third eye. Laughing, your crown of gold splashes everywhere generously. - l’esprit de monter les escaliers Head tilting towards a passing faerie forest, I let a howling tear release. My desire will not die with me but find other bodies to lease. Fire that finds no fuel merely rests. One day a flame will glance and cabaceo the fire will resume its dance of tango. The light of another sky lingers in my head like fog so fat and well fed it’s hard to find eyes to look by. Something my memory wiped: empty space a word should go waits like an open hand for fruit to fall into overripe. -


Liked..the light of another sky lingers in my head