Five Poems

The Desert of Want

is tautology hugging itself, itself;
not the mammal shadow-plasma
nor the machines of insect song
ringing in the thermal pools
of dawn beneath it.



The Surfaces of Want

Mobius ribbon indulgent
beyond a snake eating itself.

The regularity of its meaning
in each dawn chorus entering you,

a depthless discomfort of indifference
glittering in the trees.

Thus, the way you trace the under-
cells of your skin looking for an in.



The Ongs of Want

blossom-gong of hellstrip
sunflowering the gold that gold
finches’ blossom-song
flutter-feasts into plenty



The Evolution of Want

is gill-twist turned in liquid dark
of time’s hunger to jawbone’s

breath-hinged lifting
of chunk-flesh into the light.



The Cicada-Song of Want

Or how dog days ground to dust
The stillness of the trees

As it happens from a porch (perch);
Eyelevel with the eye of dust

Beyond the glass of tea, the flatness
Of thought, the endless mold of sky.

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