Free Rein
I let go the leather
Difficult at first to release the grip
Its rich aroma, the feel of the stable
A thick, second skin to shed
My horse, confused at first
After a life pulled and yanked
By the burnished bit
Quickly saw beyond
The sheen of control
Past the rolling hills
Dappled in shade
Rife with oak
Her nose twitches
Caught the scent
Of warming dew
Thunder hooves alight
Climbs, weaves through woods
Muscles strain, flanks glisten
To the crest, the meadow below
Alive with wildflowers
She took me
Without my guidance
To graze, hear
The buzz of pollination
The full fragrance
Of early summer morn
When all is possible
Silent Symphony
Sometimes
before bed
i watch live performances
of master musicians
with the volume low
do you?
Watch how they move
in the air colored with sound
move to a rhythm
i can barely hear
Real musicians
that feel what they play
riding that wave
when every note is right
Their bodies cannot help it
striking notes within
prisms in their lungs vibrate
guide them to blissful being
Sometimes
that’s how i feel
while listening to you
Goddess Save Us
She parachutes from Venus
Flings meteors with constellation hands
Flames through stratosphere
String theory stardust hair
Blue planet braces
For a cold shower after a drunk
Every life nerve tingles
Reliving birth
The prophets will praise her
While politicians condemn
The poets will love her
While zealots bark dogma
And all that are asleep
Will not see her fire eyes
Will wake in the morning
To ash and ruin
A new age begun
Communication
He barks by the back wall
Sits at attention when the neighbor comes
She is blue haired, wire rimmed glasses
Bent and thin housing more wrinkles than life
One by one
She feeds him nibbles
Halting briefly in reprimand
When he is too eager
Saliva on her hands
She does not mind
Treats gone
She holds empty palms
To eternal morning sky
Shakes her head in apology
He bounces
Big red paws on the wall
Wags tail furiously as she
Rubs his head, gets behind the ears
She steps away
Waves goodbye
As he resumes his day
Digging holes
Rolling in dirt
He could not ask for more
Hunger satisfied
By nibbles and conversation
Causeway
When drowning rays sink purple
Wraps like a mother’s embrace
Lilac perfume sweeps in
Like ocean waves touched by feet
Silver bells of an ice cream truck
Children chase down the block
Will ring with confectionary promise
Dispel the heat of summers gone
Specific events lightning flicker
Cascade to the void
The scarring staple from a box
The beloved pet, a favorite aunt
Gun powder bites the tongue
Misfire words of regret
The shy discard of clothes
For the interstellar journey
To a first lover’s soul
Dirty laundry spins
Hung out to dry
Let the wind make light
Deadbolt undone
Iron door swung open
Let all definition fly
Let the ones who stayed
Decide your worth
Overcooked Spaghetti Timeline
I learned today
Brautigan began writing
Trout Fishing in America
September 16, 1960
The 150th anniversary
of Mexico’s independence
This nugget simmered the juices
in the pot of my brain
Bringing to surface
September 16
Also being the day we met
shortly after America’s bicentennial
The state I live now
sticks onto Mexico and California
I sucked the noodle highways
that wound to Big Sur
past federales in body armor
outside turreted machine gun vehicles
before the white sands of Puerto Peñasco
Our twisted strand was long ago
You got me to like vodka and grapefruit
Our stiff semolina minds
thought it was a grown up drink
at the Chinese restaurant
where they didn’t card
Now I am old
Brautigan long dead
California shores six hours
through a boring, flat desert
Mexico shrimp
Four hours away
You, forty six years away
I will mix a margarita
Have chicken with nonstick rice
avoid the stick and tangle of spaghetti
and memories