Burnout
Bushes shake along the road
and the silver stars
seep light into this summer night.
My car runs loud and its body
suffers streaks of dark rust,
dark like red clay in the split
hills of Tennessee.
Tension
Five cables hold the power line
to the ground by the soccer field
and swing set by the Protestant church.
Still the pole bends like the flexing
wood of a bow drawn back
to the cheek of a hunter,
but there is no need for
unsightly acts like that
out here.
Canine
Coyotes leave tracks
in the wet grass between
warehouses and water towers.
They stay far enough out
for the most part nobody
bothers them.
Kronos
Two old men roll
in the gray mud
wrestling over
possession
of an hourglass.
Worthy
The last time I remember
rowing a boat I was twelve
in a canoe with my brother
and we drifted under
a bridge where
two figures stood
making conversation
in the shade.
Archipelago
I get stitches
in my worst dreams
usually above my left eye
in a cold room
painted faded blue
with fogged up
windows.
Desolate Glow
Stone dust covered boots
remain the only thing
between me and this
mountain path
where birds hangout
after eating their fill
from the river.
