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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Saturday, 21. June 2008

Dusk Took Me In...



As I let go of Adrienne's hand On that foreign veranda - As foreign as she claimed I was to her, and as foreign As that once native ground Had become. So a foreign Dusk took me in, by the hand.

And in that hand left a hunk Of dark bread. I gnaw and Gnaw on it, with a hunger (which doesn't seem to abate) For that evening I last tasted Stardust from Adrienne's mouth - Before dusk took me in, Before darkness fell.




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Morning Music...



on repeat...

Salif Keita's "Tomorrow"




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Saturday, 14. June 2008

Trompe-l'oeils



The schooner of separation, with its cargo of words is nearly at vanishing point. Waves break over driftwood beached here at my moonlit feet. No stars, not even the hiss of nebulae falling away from our planet - with its distant cities, you in one, I in another - in the whitewashed sky. All those June days of green heat & evenings we spent watching thunderstorms to the Great American Songbook-

Were those deeps we reached, Adrienne, trompe-l'oeils rather than moments of a lived summer, I wonder?




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