Island

Pronouncing the word is
Running hot spring over glacier lagoon.
It disappears if you don’t know where you are.

Hot and cold orbits around
our confused flesh
And evaporates into the
mouths of surrounding sheep.


The rain drops forget 
Where they land
And we forget it is raining.

A Vulcan volcano
Heats the land and water
With the occasional eruption.
But it doesn’t
Not this time.

The multi-edged 
Sworded glaciers
That fill the lagoon
Ship our boat,
Diving deep in
The darkness.

We venture vertically
Up the molten mountain
I could slip and
fulfill my dream
Of falling for
The wind untethered
And without
Hope.

But you follow
And catch me
Without gloves
Or rope.

Our wool is washed
Off to reveal
Weary wide-eyed wolves
Arriving in summer
Prepared for winter
And expecting forever
To run the northern lights.

 

                     

 

     

Clean

Pasted on past
With thick clown paint
Continuously outlasts
A dark day's saint.

Crooked cocky smiles
And empty lovers
Stretch for miles,
While sins uncover

A man filled marsh
Of foggy failures
And outcomes so harsh,
Singed desert pours
Over mountainous minds.

Dry dreams drown.
memories soak and bind
To the face 
Of a clown

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