With Otters and Owl Call

A poem is when you're in love
And have the sky in your mouth.
If by repeating the same message,
to become a re-iteration machine,
but the nature of the beast-- re-iter-
metaphymbolic twirl. All of it. no
detail omitted, rather expanded upon.

don't avoid puttin' on the dog. This
Party, just gettin' started. Make it
laugh. Make the whole thing rise
like that. You know how to leven
the bread. Bailé. I know one, and it is hot like fresh bread.
When you eat it, a little is always left over.
Imagine through another as that
other imagines through you. Live
wake the dream. It's a party of
the fox on the run. I see it.
the heart never stops trying.

Deterritorialize reterritorialize
must always legitimize each iteration
to its very utmost possibility. Alma.
Everyone's a Winner. Win/Win.
In the book. Taken apart. Slow.
A poem is when you hear the heartbeat of a stone.

Explode. Slo-Mo. A teen dream
Six Million dollar Jump over tall
buildings but to vaporized like a
Kiss Love Gun -- Pop. memories
But this kinda not like the movies.
A poem is when you hear the heartbeat of a stone.

Delphinium. works wonders.
What is bound seeks release,
so allies make better allies.
An ally. small, dwarfish,
crouched under bush, place
spirit manifestation, Colula,
and ally spirit cast. and this
brings forth, golem-like.
A poem is when words beat their wings.
It is a song sung flying.

Summer, swimming and
chlorine and guys at the
pool. Song on the radio,
Donna Summer Summer.
Loving it more in retrospect
seeing better in some way
there is real beauty in nostalgia
the way it sorts out colors
in skeins. Such a different
view sometimes. It's better
in music this perspective
back in this place.
A poem, well… it’s what poets make.

Seattle looked like a glamour
The glamour is the spell cast
Three days now, lunar ritual.
the ecosystem, going with
the larger pattern. entirety
intentionality of ritual done
on the surf. Or river swim.
Tango with the current with
otters. with a beach at night
and owl cry.

When you put your old sweater on 
backwards or inside out, 
you might say that it is new again.
The dead, those who died young,
they feel the time in memory more
intensely. Much more than those
of us with longer-term storage
schemes. Spirits of those we share
time with show us this intensity
of memory. It's a good thing
we're so damned funny.