Under Snow

It’s good for things to lie down

Under snow

Under snow


We too will have to be

Tucked under

Black-armed under

Into the gap, and gap



A man old enough for wisdom

Though few do know

Breathes through tooth-holes

Laughing at his losses

(Though, unlike this Earth –

Does he really know?)


I’ve heard some fruit-seeds

Won’t make trees

Unless they’ve froze down darkly

Dark black ice below the belt, the seam

Dead-like winsome seed-bits

Useless strewn –


Our veins need to circulate

Through Pluto

Black brows of ice –


Bruise-black metal

Bangs you good

No way to pad your bone –


Before they come rollercoastering

Swooping towards the too-hot sun

Eyes shut into the

White-blind daisy

Big as Job and loud as tirade gun


Just now my garden clogs

Are sticking

Fast to the deck-table

Filled heapy-dry with snow

With dunes of snow


Rock walls are nearly buried

The yard-face altered

Like fine-boned ladies swole to fat

Puffed over,

Sad like white gin woes.


I feel the earth sleep

Hard and harder

Metal-sharp the clay

Earth burning grows –


So deeply glad to drink

The long long lie-down

Locked tight

And shoulders hunching

Under snow,

Under snow.





Dec. ’06/Jan. ’07, Dancing Leaves

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