Visitation
don’t know what
he is or wants
kissing me in the dark
warm soft intrusive
tongue hands breath
the skin across his jaw
taut rough gritty
I know him
from highways dreaming straight
across the semi-
desert night no streetlights
no gas stations no diners
only owls and coyotes
guarding their mesa
watching his lone car
headlights like twin comets
hurrying through their heaven
coyotes wail and the moon
rises and the owls
take wing
Poem for the End of October
trees unravel like soft sweaters
jack o’ lanterns hunker on every porch
the black wings of crows harvest the moon
In the Heaven of Animals, I hope you’re chasing rabbits and rats, sleeping on the big bed, eating your fill of yum yums, and getting belly rubs from God. RIP, Mo-minator.
Was He
lazy water flowing over the stone fountain
or was he the coin at the bottom of the pool
all copper and sunlight refracted burning
his image into the wet canvas
of your retina
reach into the water
the lines of your fingers break
beneath the surface they appear to belong
to some one else cool and pale
and restless he is
smooth water closing over
warm skin he is the clean and shining
coin just out of reach
the one wish
you would have made
Self-Portrait as Stray Dog
I am a mixed breed head like a cinder block
loyal and smart enough to learn
all your tricks
put your collar on
me tether the lead to the clothes line
you have my permission
I snap at the jabbering shadows
of squirrels as they sprint across
power lines phone lines
I dream you back home at dusk
pan of fresh water table scraps smell of your hair
warm length of your sleeping body next to mine
where have you been all day
what fences dug under trashcans toppled
what bitches tracked
tomorrow we stay inside
newspapers down talk radio on
I will show you how good it is
to be a dog
