What you don't see you will never see. What you could know, if you saw. I knew no one who wanted to be the last to know. This is about secrets plain as water lying in the sun. This is about a lifetime of practice coming in on the heels of the favorite horse. This is about the hope that perpetual labor delivers the soul into its heaven. Twice now, I've come upon a colony of mushrooms under the citrus tree. Once, in a store, everything we saw was made of staves from old wine barrels. If you try to see into the future all you find is a mirror clouded with distortions. A praying mantis looks like a branch denuded of its green. How could you know you'd become a candleholder, chair leg, rocker? You could split a fish open down the middle but its eye will hold on to its envelope. Every butchered animal glistens with onyxes of blood and bile. After a body is turned inside out, what of it is finally exhausted?
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.