mourning further heavens

paradigm shift
drat that whore
never knocked
on my door
i went from
the sofa to
the bed to
the floor moving
one place
to the other
but the mother
won't budge
or i am there
and she is
one step ahead
shape shifter
new places enter
my dreams i
dream of new places
she in between
i hugging her sides
i dive right in and
am hung out to dry
what alters in my eyes
is the rate
of their blinking



topics for
moving stories
i could narrate one
from the side of a field
and another in the motions of
a somersault into a progressive age going backwards
plus in the crossing of a bridge joined and sundered
in the late afternoon it thundered she cried they split open the skies
there is one on the terrace soaking up rain and laying the blame
on the city oh how it gets flooded but dont you know there is enough droughts
how at the foothills bright green thorn shrubs sprout
there is one about getting stung by these blessed nettles
retrieving a ball and having picked up the fallen
all that gets swollen burgeons
true of clothes also woes
before it was stone then rock then dust then down the river gone
but the hungry worship the flow wash by the banks grow
then back to stone
what phenomena this love
what bludgeoning memory
the earth has promised me stillness of stones
returning all with the one face and repeating after louder
yet no more no less equal
but silent throughout