Highway of Tears

One prince left, another never reached, still

Pines along the shoulder, where daughters cease

To walk and breathe, uncertain litanies

Disturb the provinces and turn the leaves.

For D.

You are
what you imbibe.

Liquid clear and roasted
til it speaks

A mother's suspension
of disbelief
pailed and skimmed

A bag of last year's
hillside leaves

The candied sex of flowers
passed in a fussy
mouth to mouth

Precise and ritual
held in friended cups
and mixed with the clapper of a bell

The antidote for each
morning's poisoned kiss.

Stamboul Train

Sweeney

A bell rang over Hourland,
The cupboard-keeper's flare;
I blew upon his papers
and my fury left me bare.

Here We Are

In the mansion of a dream
I would rescue furniture from the fire
that lived in every room

Trembling in the curtains
and along the boards
quiet and content

But here we are

My courage is real
you are wise and beautiful
we talk between kisses

We do not dissolve into some chemical
we hold our shapes
beneath the coffered ceiling.

The Demi-Urge of Uxkull

Pulled from my horse
I could not find the ground
A litter for my self was made
Each hand becoming cup and blade
Tight to my throat
a berried bramble wound.

Minute 2.48

Brought down in the devil’s hour, out of dreams

And pigeon-pressed, no figment in the screams;

The lives behind their mirrors hesitate,

In times become the silent thirty-eight.