Tracks

You left tracks like seaweed
dragged across wet sand
we sat for a pulse

and when we walked, the waves
washed them away.
My head in your lap

blue sky white clouds
the murmur of water retreating
into the next urgent swell arriving

Hafiz, from my lips to your ears.
We didn't kiss that day
nor in the parking lot

before you drove off into your secret
future, always looking to your left
dipping your chin, biting your lip

like someone was whispering
or kissing you there already
except those few times you smiled

like a lily, like freshly fallen snow on a split rail,
like the crescent moon
and as far

shredded poetry

Very cool portraiture, pasted from the Colossal website.

Portraits made of shredded poetry, by Jamie Poole

Happy birthday

Spine taller
voice lower
but scratchy
feet longer
jeans skinnier
four and
ten years
my son.

Eyelids crinkle
brows narrow
lips turn
up one
side only
until no
containment possible
laughter leaps
treetop high.

Valentines day
is his
no stupid
cards, no
forced love
just heart
every year
the same
love only
much bigger.

Conspiracy

All the conspiracies
are true:
guilty as sin, as an apple
hitting Newton's head
or water finding the easiest path

which if you've seen a riverbed isn't
straight until the Army Corps
paves it that way.
Forget evidence
or long thinking

forget anything which challenges
complexity. After all Occam's razor
cuts out all the difficulty
leaving only the simplest behind
so it must be true

that the weather isn't any more wacky
than we are used to
and that 6000 revolutions of the earth about the sun
are all the years passed since Genesis.
And faggots will cause society to crumble

just like the niggers did, like the kikes did, like
the nips and towel heads and micks and wops
the wetbacks and feminazis and viet cong, commies
and unions and journalists and and and
everyone who won't support what's right

it's a god damned conspiracy
that I can't find the remote
the price of beef went up
the government won't pay my doctor bill
and when I step on the gas now it don't go fast

like when I was 17
could see my feet
bluejays and redbirds fought for seeds at the feeder
not these black crows and gray pigeons
and I didn't need a pill to be a man