Pink Knowledge

 pink knowledge

“I know certain things” David the Homeless Guy
My bloody lip.
Desperate grace.
A suitcase by the door.
a child’s face
stares through the window
to a mirror
without a reflection
a promise of a life with less winter.
O the gaze of those  mornings
It is true               
I am
                            very tired.
Horns play from the other
side of a rising moon-
a deep baritone
rises out of the wetlands.
A dead heron in the reeds.
She leans over,
“Is that why the music has stopped?”

Her panties over the head-
board, she is naked
in the bath –
her body
in a disturbing

There are cornucopia printed
on plastic dishes left
at the table
a pile of half eaten
napkin on the floor,
against a table leg-
                 Here love is insistent.

The orchestra is silent
Is sudden silent.
I hear an audience
of timepieces.
of a cold black sea.
She brings me flowers.
I am not there to receive them.
I give up; move down the hall
to another room.
A blind barber wants me to read
his correspondence, has me read

the labels on the side of cans,

“Read!, Read!”
he implores.

A stag moans from a field 

a doe goes into estrus.

so is love.
Where did my lover go?
            Don’t ever let them leave
                             without a compass and
                                          a map.

I notice a bumble bee pushing
against a window. Where does
it want to go?
Soggy clover field.
” She tastes good, but I am not hungry for her, I am still licking
        clean the bones of another.”

Ms. Jonas 4th grade class presents:
Opening night is canceled
because of rain.
Channel 5 news,
newscast, children crying
and he’s crying for her.
—she has been dealt a good hand
and she writes her mother a letter all about
it, and then folds
the Las Vegas napkin into
                            an origami frog.


on a blue plate
an egg wobbles
around the edges
              of her steps


at a bus stop
 a long time ago
-that one patch of grass
in between cracks of
            soft asphalt like cake-
the pink desperadoes
the blue tax collectors
and the pearly confectioneries?
Or the branding iron
left in the tall grass,
Remember that bus stop?
O desert wind.



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