by TWIXT


Rind of the moon a peels to me, butlered
around the neighborhood planets drink sun
in, chauffeured by momentum in orbit
and thought in accord with prepatterned path.

 
 

A red fox at the creek for a quick drink
sees a rufous leaf going nowhere slow
in an easygoing eddy in the stream.
Paint in his eye. And up the easel of
a tree, leaves splash light.

 
 

My Friend The Insect
It speaks a sweet squeak and runs from the wind
like lint, though it’s old enough to fly, and
it drinks from the blue blooms with the scent of
grape-flavor…

 
 

The water forms ulcers where famished fish
forage on surface insects. Sunlight flames
flamingo: each current’s a new sinew.

 
 

I fell in love and I’m trying to shake
it off, the highs and lows bringing it on
grew in my mind to impossible heart-
set-on what-was-to-come that-can’t-be-real
too-much-to-hope-for’s heading-for-failure
fire.