glassfish

get high
and read things you don't agree with
after all
the pope has been dethroned
and you are simply blessed
to be

Chirpadoo-doo

the feathered, enthusiastic
young juggler of truths
makes fools of gods
makes food of them too
she sings chirpadee-dee
chirpadee-dee

the lovelit holes
in cosmic backyards
grow into wells of being
they sing chirpadee-dee
chirpadee-dee

Be(h)old

behold
a man without conspiracy
without the foresight
of masked dancers
and stoned ancestors
a child held in the graces
of serene meaningless embers
huddled fast in bare gardens
kissed deep within by desert winds
searing presence into but few words
into spears of bamboo
which follows the night
which hollows the song

behold
a wisdom taken to the earth
struck down by the rooty
warm teas of a black sun
fearless in agave beds
sweaty and covered in fireflys
a savage love set upon itself
a nighttime pour of sweet animal void
graybearded like the river rushing within
scrolls soiled torn and budding
singing of a simple nudity
rising as a cool mass of song
a song and nothing more
a song for you
the beholder