string thirteen

Fish hide in the earth
lurk the roots
of great trees


My skeleton
thinks about you
still, in sleep


(nothing    but
a doorknob
but    nothing)


I stare into
a gutted STAPLES
and its dark consoles






I Draw a Blank

Here I am explaining water,
here I am talking you blue.
Why, I might be making a photograph
with my words! Let me draw
you a picture. It is insane
to presume a wave
or blue, or wavelet
even. Let the concept
sting me like a wasp
until I feel its coronet,
of an eyelet
on a crown
it flits through.