Kick through freeze thaw leaves
and snowmen. Meteoric
lilies. The universe.
The pink fingernail
weeps vineyards of red iron
where there is no tear-duct.
Even little cranes need help
folded tightly on the wooden desk
where wind or breath might blow them off.
The midsection of a tall portly horse.
The relentless pursuit of cats.
Sometimes the frontal edge of a cyclone.
Look Out! I’ve Just Sacredized Aspen!
The people who visit
are possessed by the spirits
of birds. A juncture
of seemingly disconnected,
but related, things.
More Room to Fail
Mad freedom, mad failure,
too mad to fall or fail.Look out! I’ve just sacredized Aspen again!