A wolf on the American prairie
The industrial desert calls
To a stormy old soul
A weathered storm
A ripened fruit at last breath withal
As time insufficient
To bear flower to reality
'Tis just a moment comes and goes
Is all in all
Won't you watch me?
I want to disappear into the life like ochre
The existent non entity
A gentleman of cordial depth
In his glass taste the humanity leaving
Tumbling silent and digital
A receding openness
Less current to speak of minds
Just contemplating
Disseminating
All the room free of conversation
The great American opera
A toss of hair turn of a page
Rising to trust in the ambient ideology of the spheres
And willing to stand empty of posture
A figurine ineffable
I stared him dead silent in the eye
'Midst the cultural rain
And we met so soon
A façade crystallized
The repetition a fresh dream to imagine
To realize
A carrier pigeon
A trapeze artist
Flying over the river
Though a free bird never flies
He just rides the current
That's all
An eagle scouring the bald heights of industry at sunrise
Scheming his thievery
Drunk off the moon night 'fore
A wolf on the American prairie
The industrial desert sprinkled with grass
Porcelain rain to nourish a scowling meditation
Howls our souls into past disintegrations
Of the steady meet
The glitching hue
A ghost of routine
In newly lightened netherworlds
Like moths to ambiance
We flock to gods
Infatuate or contrived
Flying circles 'round our weathered eyes
We're by some hope then mesmerized
I watched the hood of darkness
Breathe embroiderings of black stilts
Above the pointed rooftops
Harboring the olden souls' gentle arrogance
In the eagle's eye I was poverty
In the wolve's I was crying abandon
A panic so rapid as to still
Distill serenity remarks
The dark is mere the light
Where yet to point us home
Where the heart is scattered wide
A gestural dance of time upon a prairie
Chasing the tales of birds that sing the sun
It's dusty in the empty rooms of soul
And we've no doors to close behind
Rather the foam of sea
Coming so close to home we die
Sipping merlot with the blackbirds
A dash of blood beneath the wing
Twirling sparkling water with the bluebirds
A ray of sun in flight to sing
All through the thickets' swamp
Where thieving masters capture things of grace
And rape their souls that came too far
Falling irreversible without a trace
The tails of wives of old
Goodnight my ineffable
I've lit a candle for you too soon
The savannah is a golden flame
Where we imagine we came true
Though even all in all
A moment came and went
Then late one stormy night
By that same candle had been lit
I felt our shadows had been drift
Up from foamy sea
Embracing in the coming fall
The New York symphony
And on the prairie where the rabbits play
Their holes of darkened shame
In American persistence
We can simply turn the page
Toss our hair upon the wind
And meet so soon again
Carry on another day
For after all and all
Life is mere a whisper woke
That may we proper cultivate
To grow and grow and grow
Into a neverending poem