from BLAST


lost in leafy translation
she throttles the vespa
rides the notion we might all
fall                     or is it winter
forget it
the bees explode
and bloom by her passage
                              12:38 pm 3/11/10

* * *

she remains at this threshold
it may seem like shadows surround
her or is it maybe me

i choke it back
again and offer
her another fistful of

pomegranate seeds
                              11:08 pm 4/1/10

* * *

right in the center of it
she skimmed the streets
on what looked like
a logan earth ski circa ‘78
get outta my way
i heard her cry
as she ground the trucks
against the scrim
in an ode to concrete
so sweetly it would
make old orpheus blush
                              10:32 pm 3/22/10

* * *

the fact of particles
upends my theory
of desire           as she stood there
waiting for who knows what
i don’t know                     robed
in green and holding
either 4 maybe 6 pomegranate seeds
                              10:47 pm 3/16/10

* * *

a candy colored clown called the sandman
goes the tune as she struggled to lift
the seeds of the great central valley
check out her ass
said one dumb-ass with a comb-over
the scene lit by a sprig of incense
a handle-bar mustache
and those mirrorshades
reflecting the globe of light
of a bare lamp used as the mic
                              10:53 pm 3/15/10

* * *

hits of helium makes the throat constrict
don’t know / the shadows collect
around this dizzying prospect of her
riding her vespa
at full-throttle
                              10:51 pm 4/7/10