[These fragments of poems from my mid-1990s notebook seem to work surrealistically well together. Let's call it a single poem.]
Pieces of Poems / Poem in Pieces
...for the darkness will lengthen like shadows
and threaten a drowning
...where the rose petals scatter
below the bush with blowing arms...
blackness past the searchlight,
lost in the waves.
Remember the brown grass
that blows there
Remember the faces
that laid you in the dust
I know there is something crying
under the broken sidewalk
something barely human calling
and an ancient secret
like a child
chained to a bed;
and the vision that failed you then:
a flock of geese rising to sunlight--
only to crash down and shatter
the water's dark glass...
a package of razor blades
bulging your pocket like the weight
of jingling change.
The mind a darkened corridor,
The soul a vacant lot,
The beast that lingers in the brain
behind the door to gone insane
appreciates the strangeness of the plot.