Animal Death Mass

The sun in the shape of starfish
The last wings raining down hard
Dolphins diving into breathlessness
Mass graves for fish and pigs
Mixed with cattle and their kind
The last bees in the carcass of a lion
Dead turtles mute the thunder
Elephantine absences push space
Closer our own extinction
Bats fall from the sky over Israel
Like prophecies gutted by time
Whales breach the surface of being
And like the earth washed ashore
On its own dead coastlines
Our faith in things unseen
Numbers us among the damned

The Old Religion

Put my shoes on the table,
Carry me out cold tomorrow.
The malefic in the evil eye
Lives also with its sorrow.

You ward off a black cat
With the sign of the horns
Like a gardener trimming roses
Wears gloves for the thorns.

Ask spirits of the vine
But never pledge with water,
You’ll pour misfortune
On your mother and father.

A broom touching my feet
Brushes my dust across the floor
Or leaves me without love
Like a widower at the door.

Better a toccare il ferro
And to wear a cornicello
Than let evil in your soul,
A stranger into your void.

Down Goes Columbus

Like we wouldn’t have found Terra Nullius
And the Natives aren’t born of land.
But it’s 2020! Who dares not think ahead?
My heart is Italian, not my cement.
My mind is Sicilian, not my marble.
My spirit is wine, not angry permanence,
But fluid transience, song and love.
Down goes Columbus in ships of stone,
His navigations would always end like this,
Discovery and obscurity share a seascape
Of lost explorers in ocean graves.
We create false idols out of the living
But why celebrate the falsely dead.
I’ll not give in on loving and being no one.
Down goes Columbus, my heart sings,
I’ll live for the living and set sail for the end.

Rephrase the Rain

for Duke Ellington

Rephrase the rain
Reshape the pain
Rewind the key
Resolve the rage
Rewire the fire
Reword the words
Restructure truth
Rebody spirit
Rebuild oneness
Reflag freedom
Reload the love
Replenish light
Rephrase the rain
Reshape the pain
Rephrase the rain

Crow Feather Totem XIV

One feather, two shadows.
Two feathers, four shadows.
Three feathers, eight shadows…
This is how earth was created,
How the earth separated from itself,
How the sky learned to float,
The sun learned to be many places,
How wings multiplied,
Clouds gathered and rain began to fall.

Renaissance

it only took a light breeze to waken the flowers they spread their wings and set off into the butterfly kingdom of the new creation so too the plants felt the breeze and began walking along the scorched ground in search of water and the fish also took it upon themselves to breathe air and move onto land opening roads closed for millions of years and for a time all seemed as it should be until it became clear from animals who ventured into the cities that the human population was disappearing so the higher primates and large-brained animals conferred in private to develop strategies for the disappearing humans and some animals who’d come to hate humans voted to let them die because they were no good from the start and others with more forgiving natures agreed that surely we must do everything we can to save this species as part of our global community and just as important as saving the punk-haired Mary river turtle or the yellow eyed Aye Aye lemur or the Chinese crocodile and yet conservative primates had their own agenda warning that the oversexed humans would too quickly recover and truly no one knew what to do about the humans who went extinct after consecutive pandemics and extended periods of civil unrest

 

 

Burning Moon

I’ve seen the moon in windows
At life’s saddest hour
Like a transparent sphere
Left behind by the mists of change
I’ve seen moons in mirrors
With faces of ancestors
Buried in the illusion of time
Moons in photographs
Fall from the hands of mothers
Into abysses of blackest despair
I’ve seen the moon on ponds
Flow out without spilling its silver
And the moon in ocean waves
Fold distances into dreams
Returning lovers to their shores
I’ve seen mountaintop moonlight
Outlining each peak
In heaven’s own cold twilight
Moons over the desert
Like the sun of vast night
Begun in a grain of sand
I’ve seen canyons
Into which the moon dropped lures
For the fish of the deepest stars
But I have never seen the moon ablaze
Except in the eyes of men

Crow Feather Totem XIII

Three hawk feathers in three weeks.
The gods are speaking to me again.
They have come down from the clouds
With these notices of flight.
Before the first, I felt bound to the earth.
After the second, I tested my wings.
With the third, I leave my body behind.

Footprints of light

They are footprints of light
Laughing forests of stone
Savannahs of blown-glass animals
Migrations of palm prints
Oceans of raw materials
Deserts of innumerable alphabets
Mountain skies with mountains

They are footprints of light
Trees of first flight
Clouds and water flowers
Vines of healing outgrowth
Silence smiling in space
Rain enacting its own performance

They are footprints of light