FORMATION
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 5:38pm
I am going to be taught to knit
A Shield Of Honour
carried out by A Big Black X
across the length X width
with a reflective grey diamond
in the center
& A Red Eye
glaring out
like A Serpent’s
Pupil
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 5:38pm
I am going to be taught to knit
A Shield Of Honour
carried out by A Big Black X
across the length X width
with a reflective grey diamond
in the center
& A Red Eye
glaring out
like A Serpent’s
Pupil
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 2:22pm
When I was 23
I saw My Name In Lights
— Red Ones —
@ The World Trade Center
I see It now
— In Silver —
as Those Silver Spears
have forked Me
June 18, 2015 The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:52pm
abandoned on shore
sandy pink sucky thing — dropped
detritus of youth
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:00am
Outpost Window
Deck
Dewy Grass
Bamboo Hedge
Misty Scrub Spruce
Blinding Silver
Wispy Sky
–
After-image
in The Blink
of Florescent Green
June 15, 2015 The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:51pm
The Gulls are glinting
in The Longest Sun
& I have written
of My Longest Psalm
He is not to expect
what arrived ago
by a magic number
I now forego
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:13pm
legions of mosquitoes
have swarmed into the broken webbing
of yesterday
catching themselves, in some cases
one upon the other
still alive
& how I wonder
can their scrambling efforts be
for each other?
The Hawk Kitchen 3:40pm
Where will I go
with My Halo
solidified in the frantic spinning
of a wind-blown insect
dangling off a disheveled spider web —
to give forth
The “Wake Up”
Call?
The Hawk Queen Bed 10:06am
Oh how I want to knead
a double weave of lavender
& green —
I want so badly
to meld a shield
of diamond coloured star
in My Center
Oh how I want to paint
the emblematic Silver
of My Center
My Big Black X
so I could make a pair
to My Black Star
The Hawk Kitchen, sometime in the afternoon
I am under The Spell
of creation I have blown
the breath of Life
into the blankness
of everything
and I am The Creator
of what has
always
been
The Tomato-coloured Couch 3:40pm
I can hear Nova Scotia
in the song of the birds
on the convolutions of the wind
breezing through My Screen
Yes, I am screened in —
I live a life for God
by Her Design
I am laden
with My Perfect
Responsibility
meshing with the object
of My Deepest Wish