Care

Even when you've scratched
the road signs new names
Or burned a letter jacket
Due diligence still needs be due

Characters can alight in trees
But eveningsong doesn't write poetry
Poetry writes poetry, coming back
tanned vacation-certain(ly).

Your baby fever is my fasting period
when I imagine limiting my flagrant life
The baby is a synonym for care
and care is the product of wisdom

which I have precious little of.
A trenchcoat of gremlins
makes up my body: too babyish,
no satisfying whole parent package

Although that is really
an image of perfection
which neither of us had (nor needed?)
and is a synonym for retreat from pain

Care is the relief of pain by the use of wisdom
which makes me certain(ly)
The pause during sex as I try to parse
your facial expressions before asking "is this OK?"

The baby should be diligent. It might be
an asshole, which would reflect badly for
all humanity, since what if aliens came and
the baby was rude? Humanity would accuse us

of being poor parents. That would be pain.
The shock of stubbing a toe and being
reminded that your body has a finite edge
and you are overstepping it! Police yourself.

Care also implies awareness, the application
of wisdom over the environment. This means
I am unaware, for the most part
my environment is curated precisely.

Men at work are vacationers
they live on islands certain(ly).
Really all people, there's no need to restrict
to men, a stupidly vague term.

The work produces experience,
IF you take care (don't screw up)
which is the patience of wisdom.
See how it makes a lullaby?

Diligent characters, birds maybe,
build nests and prepare through their work
rather than concentrating on eveningsong
If you stay up all night singing, good luck

getting worms in the morning.
The freshest produce is a matter of opinion
For the time being I can eat spoiled stuff
And practice wisdom.

Ooze

if it be not now,
then it will come
    try with both hands
I'm sorry you're bored

catfish whiskers don't steer
so much as instigate   ideas
which is naughty

collapse your cheek into my shoulder
jesus fuck
how long does it take
to lighten my load?

Brautigan was nothing fancy
but you never had the patience
to fi(ni)sh me off

For my Mother on her Birthday

Moon mother
Way up there
Off to work
Before morning
My dishes put away
Red wine rings
On night glasses

Moon mother
Somewhere near Dog Star
but not too close
Off across the sky
before morning

Moon mother
coaxes me down from ledges
Flattens the sky
Until I see dust
around her lashes
dinner's taken care of

Moon mother
Calls me when she walks the dog
Talks business at 9pm
We eclipse glimpses
Every once in a while

Séance

Catch-all psychics leave white damp doilies. Black ants march at the no answer. Marsh light vomits through blinds blinded bug-winded old man nests on mats splotchy skin sweaty river crossers ford for no answer. Take a calculated risk. Pay out pray but try not pry knots off no answer. Sanction done over-overall drawn small psychics leave horoscope Mercury liquid to trickle in your underwire. Take a breath. Try to think. Count down until you can hold your Yukon Jack close to firepits close to the overpass where we performed Super Depression Research. Take a pill. It's an above average Sunday for a Monday.

Hansel & Gretel

ignore traffic signs
you're in a hurry to get there

wiggle onto the tough
leather saddle
of the old man's Gazelle
lioness, hunch
pounce and tear off
the gear shift (oh shit)

uncordoned aim
less human expansion

the sea kept them back
until they got crafty
rode around polders
taunted the fish
or built windmills
on fish hills
sea mills
turbines with geometric scales

cobblestone twists
farmlands/villages

Heather on hillside keeps
healthy distance
enough centuries to mature
into the illusion
of bald contentment
the woods
keep Table Mountain out
of the sun its
Northern Ontario mosquitos
bewitched into fairy white bulls
by residential schools

stop for an ice cream
stop for a six-pack
stop for a sign