Saturday, July 3, 2010


Steady Afternoon Decline
Three waves of music intersect:
soft backyard guitar,
a serious groove needles out the Cure,
as a distant ice cream truck
rolls out notes from the public domain.

Two open doors invite the wind
to flip through our songbooks.

A single thought skates across my mind,
gets caught in the motions and the music,

then dances into nothing.

Music Marrow
The red light is sharper
on each reflection &
the beer-tainted air is hungry for a lilting beat,
jonesing for music
—for that next crescendoed fix
can you feel?
can you feel?
can you feel!?
What kind of tinny sounds cradle your heart?
—put tension in those purple strings?

(the ink falls easy
with the help of ingesting
molten songs)
I'll make note of your musical preferences.

Recognition precedes distinction,
but only by a sip.
Dig out beauty from the scraps and skeletons,
the marrow is harsh and elemental:
the perfect starting point.

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