untitled

consider the path from the mouth
to the arse

what to make of it
Leonardo's lined perspective

the muscle so
skillfully crafted
under bone

the bone a fall out shelter
when the muscle sparks
eyes respond and the mouth
opens to swallow or to say
something

what the muscle controls

a tangible
where thought really does travel

know what the spider knows
each limb a tactile limitless

the surface breathes when it's stretched
it covers

catching up with this
in the middle of a walk

wonder if presence is felt
if the feet ground
when the muscle tasks to the tree
if the bone sings with the wood

junesplatter 2

the dirt's the thing i indolently stand on
the toes sink this stranger than ever
weather conjures its rain dropped
all over winter perhaps it's only
remarkable now because the drought
blasted and blazed a decade long
and there is so much dirt for toes
to surface (think noah) and it could
rain up a flood soon as the dirt becomes
a richness that fills itself fuller and this
dirty mud water floats toes walking
over the (climate change) junesplatter

she's an elves child eating rosemary

(for ejb)

in a long pre-literate string
she utters

inflects using eyebrows
consonant-pause-vowel

fingers all around the air
she lifts her head

skips the smile the sky fast
as she journeys experience

that flash sound ordering
her pitch of keening notes

junesplatter

yo derek

looking at maps with lines
no x to arrow
no flash dots or detailed guidelines
no here is the place with a creek
over there is a house
that one's a private track to the beach
trying the hybrid now
cause there's no way to work it out
from this disorderly bunch of lines
tweak the motivational in the right/left side
the place i want to find
is as far from here to there
as it is from there to further