construction 8-1



            sparrows see souls as they fall thru

            ex exploding clouds to new born bodies      


            she could break her arm when she follows

            the sun thru that window


            an old california mission with saint rooms

            up/down with the beatific sea at the back lawn


            someone told me, those stones small secret

            in her portable pockets, are from the africas


            i guess the airport in albuquerque is the nearest

            place but brief, to lift up away off from the earth


            across the street someone

            opens second story curtains


            the sky could hurt you

            if only you will let it


            sun filters thru & thru

            the cottonwoods


            after crossing the border

            the ivory sky will ignite


            and should i mail you

            a packet of round light(?)



            ships too far out in the sea still know

            that there are waiting harbors


            from a dream i see her reading so i wake myself

            and make a black tea for her & return to sleep


            she stubborns as a left-handed girl

            in a right handed world


            crush resin crystals, marry lime & turpentines

            choose true hues – raw umber, ochres & sienna


            so what wind would howl down the street

            and not want to rush our lives(?)


            she can feel the ocean

            anytime she wants to


            in her favorite jersey & jeans

            she gently levitates about the room


            she has curves like the ones

            in the road to her house


            he drives – she looks

            at the side of his face


            so a buoyant book is

            im impatient to be touched


CHECK THIS OUT >>> an audio reading of a poem: