November 2017

moon in mist —
a momentary glimpse
through my doubt

rainbow warrior —
a zodiac boat prowls
through the stars

in the east
ranges croak up
cumuli

all at once
some pumice bobs up
from the past

core alone on the tundra

merciful wind —
bruised reeds are unbroken
and flax flower

from nowhere
a wave overshadows
the last rock-pool

dry creek bed
face to face with
my extinction

a sign where the circle ends

light to read the directions of mist by

wide-eyed world woven with webbing

open grave doubts about life

in shadows
my search for words
to be ignored

extinct shadows
re-enact the thrill
of the hunt

still water
the night heavy
over itself

epitaph granite faced to the end

her earth mound
new for only a day
or two

granite-faced
cow cockies spark off
each other

her lavalava
colours Sale'aula's field —
the lingering heat

why fuss so, cicada?
my imago must be
four times yours

after pissing
on the trumperor's parade
so much water under the bridge

moon in the clouds
my best poker face
lost in translation

evening sun
the cosmos carries a torch
for her footfall

the poet

the poet dwells
at a safe distance
from words

the poet
pussyfoots around
the utter brink

the poet paces out
the sound of space
in-waiting

the poet
hot off the press
goes silent

the poet goes
dum-de-dum-de-dum
between breaths

the poet
pads out
the silences

the poet
lipsynchs his reflection
in tranquility

the poet
skirts the edges
of relevance

the poet
rattles off
his mortal coil

the poet at home
with the loneliness
of a long-distance runner

the poet
scratches the imagined limits
of his horizons

the poet
feathers
his nest egg

the poet
measures his success
in tossed panties

the poet loses
his daytime job
to the moon

the poet quickens
to the sound
of his own voice

the poet
strikes a pose
off its pedestal

the poet
plays out
the party line

the poet weeps
as sound and sense end
his abstinence

the poet
resurrects
a moment

the poet
loses himself
in his words

of end times the hearth flicker in earthen hearts

a match struck
against the darkness —
dawn awakening

november dusk
the heat of the day
an afterglow

tongues of fire
lick me back to when
i was without