Poems 1960-2010

WATCH OUT FOR ICEBERGS

I was going to tell you
about the blue mist
rising from the pool
and the orange light
falling from the lamps
and me breathing that

 

Grey. Paves the
lungs.
Every cloud has a
yes
& weighs a person
down /
sinks
in the gut
also sinks
to the bottom
black
(what  w/   the
drowning
& all

 

but look here sweet daddy
that’s just how it isn’t. 

I’m not flying
any blue-blooded
tigers
or gracing
the turf  w/
golden rain
but I am still swimming
with a steady crawl.