...shorter days...

if the children

knew that the days

will become shorter

and harder then

they wouldn't be so

quick to say that they

wish they were older.

...sun...

DeLaughter sang

"Hey, it's the sun

and it makes me shine."

on a day

like today,

but in Texas.

...fence...

when the dog

barks at nothing

it becomes something

material out of fabrication

ghosts in the walls

she knows something

about history

growls at the clink

of the fence

certain that there

is something up

in the corner

of the ceiling

...dog-like..

we sleep low

like lap-dogs

or land-ladies

into our heads

dreaming details

of distant stints

in different states

in Virginias and valleys

treasured, York city-tall,

Jersey back-yards

both the newer

breed and blood-line

but by the time

we are asleep

we've forgotten

where we were

...back into the grass...

back at my side

you lie next to the couch

needing nothing more

than the warmth of a body

close to you and the pressure

of a motionless hand resting

fully on your soft blonde shoulder

while the flashes from the television

go unnoticed in your sleep

and you dream of being home

out of the city

back into the grass

...fracture...

the unimaginable torque

it takes to fracture the bone

only imaginable

when the calf of the creature

one sees as alpha

once round and tomato-

shaped, but solid as rock,

spirals and splits

with one unknowing step

across the fractured ice

over the fractured concrete

...walk it out...

walk it out

the door then

step it onto the street

then swift step down

the block while whistling

past neighbors

a nod or smile

while fiddling

with ears and eyes

and traversing

the melting piles

this will become your habit

we will become this ritual

...hog...

intrusion in return

drop in pressure/

temperature/

barometric impetuousness/

the false start of spring

a hidden shadow

was already predicted

fooled we were again

pig in mud frozen

back in tempered time

lessened with each

wandering week

...thawless...

tempter seeks revenge

cold winded night

when shadows

are shades of grey

darker than seasons

that spawn cold cracked

opaqueness

(it soon changes

into spring)

(if not we stay thawless)

...parallel parking...

the spot in

which you park

is parallel

to the spot

within my heart

(for Steff)

....icebergs and assholes...

parking is the commodity

amongst icebergs and assholes

in giant tanks and gas guzzling

megaliths trying to parallel

into perpendicular spaces

in cellular time

...frozen puddles...

the cold starts thinking

about tin cans in the street

styrofoam islands in the frozen

puddles on Monmouth

the little girl shatters

with a pink skip fracture

(that sound always got me

like the sound of glass breaking)

her pink plastic boots kicking

into the groaning grey sky.

the cold starts thinking of sticking

to our necks, to our stiff

upper torsos, stale stale morning

breath and fractured

vapor foaming out of the exasperated

mouths of business men heading

to the business day, au pairs huddling

their wrapped white babies,

storefronts cracking the frozen lock

clicking and clanking

the sliding metal up

into its' housing

while the cold takes a crack

at each and every sense

of each and every waking body.

the cold starts thinking he has some

weight to throw around here.

...face to face...

simply do not have

means all weights

the world

falling shoulders

frayed bits of hair

trickle back

facing away

she faces today

when you do

not know which

way to face

to face

...intersession..

and go on vacation...

...sing...

in this new year

ketchup becomes mustard

skips become leaps

fours become twos

let us sing and chat

about the hot dogs

and burgers, falling apples

at the picnics we dream

about on these cold

winter white days

we sing to keep warm

we sing to keep our waters

from crystalizing

(even though that image

is worth the discomfort)

in this new year

we sing cause we have to

opens up the lungs

...blizz...

fall snow fall

keep the trees

in secrecy

the sidewalks

held quiet

drifting up

over the cars

dunes of soft crystalline

white gliding up waving

in the wind's curve

god's weathering example

in time lapse

(he has done this to geological

formations all over the globe;

this is just a microcosm)

..I'm hero...

in the blast

of cold you shelter

me in your shield

poncho-packed punches

hoody-fury and furry

holding in fear

that wind may

take me away

which is not an injustice

you could stand

idly by and watch

this is your street

too you know

...freightway...

subtle as subtlety

tipping slightly to the right

spirits (liquors?) sightings

tonight's quick stutter-step

and trip into the dream

the man walking behind

you talking to the gods

asking for some change

not the clinking kind

but a different path

something involving iron

maybe 5th Street

or 6th or maybe

in the dream

he is a shoulder closer

than he should be

and the shadows

of former alleys

and embankments are now

aglow with anticipation

and hope as she wakes

turns over

breathes deep

into the covers

on the morning

of the first day of winter

...twice before...

you said you would

never sing these songs

again but you reneged

and here you are

emotionally vulnerable

sexually frustrated

lyrically derivative

why bother?

It's gonna hurt me.

It's gonna kill when you desert me.

(12/18/10)

...the occasional applause...

heat being on

you: being of sound

knowing the bass

in my voice needs

to be taken out of

the subs and that wood

panelling on walls

creates thunderous echoes

the occasional applause

rumbles from bulky trucks

thrashing by and emergency

vehicles that stop traffic when

we are breathing too heavy

or need resuscitation