The writer and words:

We renew finer edges of words
Tumbling, backwards, as we do
Towards and at times into, a dark well
Of meaning. You and I, I and you
Keep our names veiled and short-like the nameless word pronoun.
So as not to be too naked as we write
But, we know, each word has come a long way
To visit us today. And we greet each in wonder
As a guest, worth undressing forever.
Both of us
Eventually
Denuded.

//
The raven’s voice
Is black tailcoat
The ladder leaning on the house
Is heaven’s stairway
The stars are beyond names
The little girl blowing bubbles
Is a floating fairy floating upwards
This computer is a minefield
And golden bridge
Which harps her way
Across the globe
Leavening behind time’s watch.

//
The street is also a snake
And how we use our hands is time
And a hummingbird is short term memory
And a drain pipe is a nest of voices
Mugs and cups and the holding lot of containers
Are flies swimming pools
And mobile oxygen masks for us
We carry our medicine not in bags but in cups
And containers. Birds nurse more directly
Mouth to mouth, which we do only if we must
Like when we kiss or give mouth to mouth resuscitation
But bikes clearly have wings for children
Not just training wheels but also wings
That only they still see.

//
I don’t believe in my unconscious
But when I dream I see
I don’t believe in you
I don’t believe in me
But when I dream I see
I don’t believe we can rule ourselves or others
I don’t believe in buildings. They have no eyes
And cannot dream.

//
As a kid
My uncle made me a red rocking horse
It was really a sleigh to the sky
I knew so, the first day I tried it
I took a lasso with me
My parents didn’t see
Invisible like wonder woman’s
But not for war, for
Jesus never killed
Even the fish and stars followed Him
As for me, wanted to corral the moon and stars
And be
In their midst
That was me then
Still is.