Under the Influence of KaTe

Sometimes there are five faces
of wow in our breath. You
never knew me.
As a child,

howling under ice: still

I am two steps and running away,
never knowing moments of pleasure–
of us dying together so that we might

survive. Yet, what would I do

without you? Take away the moments
of love and anger: with no warning,
we are as fresh as Eden, crackling
green and whole, rising in one joyous

shout. Your light is pale:
the fantasy, my deliverance.
I am your ghost. Deliver me
from hiding and cold memories.

I want to escape

Gravity, (long form

of grave), pulls me
to reality.
I’d rather rise

to cremation, to
supersition and ash:
skip the feast of worms.

Let me ride winds to low tables
in Japan where people pick me apart

with chopsticks,
grown towering
and cut for meals like me.

Take me above where I can become
the fall and cry of whippoorwills
and crows, where I can ride mother’s breath

until I’m sucked back into life. Then
take me to outer spaces until I smoke:
That high, leave me too close
and falling into the sun.

gravity01

photo credit: NuageDeNuit | Chiara Vitellozzi via photopin cc

Teaching Grace

spare the rod, spoil the man

I used to turn a man’s head
by grasping his ears and twisting
until he could see his own ass
was split similar to mine

No need the panting
tongue and shrill whistle
common to hindsight

Each time understanding
failed with the light in his eyes:
I counted that victory until I realized
the seed of more than one man left the garden

man


photo credit: sepulture/is.dead/ via photopin cc