FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,

I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived

A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here

When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always

We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,

The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering

Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave

Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…

I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city

I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,

There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win