SAVOURING
The Hawk Deck 11:42pm
I Am White Jesus
sitting in a sun hat
sounding out individual waves
from the overview of surf
savouring the tranquillity
of My Eternal Youth
The Hawk Deck 11:42pm
I Am White Jesus
sitting in a sun hat
sounding out individual waves
from the overview of surf
savouring the tranquillity
of My Eternal Youth
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:11pm
What Do I See
When I Close My Eyes?
I See The Mark
Of Infinity
Within The Swirling Masses
Of Colour, Sprayed Out
Overlapping
Lodged Forever
Behind My View
& In The Forefront
The Hawk Kitchen 9:30pm
I see A Universe
lurking in the bottom
of My Dirty Broiler Pan
–
Before I pour the steak juice
down the sink
let Me tell You what I see:
–
I see Suns, many many Suns
made from fat globules
some closer, some farther
in a wash of reddish
nebulae
in the upper left-hand corner
— the right side
holds residual stars
too numerous
to count
& soon to dissolve
in dish soap
& even after cleaning
The Pan Itself
reveals an infinite
dusting
of white matter
baked in
Its enamel
The Hawk Portico 5:55pm
Another identifiable sound here
is the melodic fog horn
sounding now with no fog
in sight —
sounding every minute
at the 42nd second mark
of My Ladies Bulova Open Heart Watch
sounding, reverberating in the key of C or D
(according to Eliza)
for ten seconds at a stretch
but not drowning out the birds
The Hawk Portico 10:22pm
My Guess Is That Cats
Worry The Birds
At Nesting Time
Much Like Predatory Governments
The World Over
Disturb The Population
Of People Trying
To Make A Living
(And I Don’t Mean To Paint Cats Black)
The Hawk Portico 1:33pm
My Silver Spears, Swords
have armed Me
against the upheaval
of The World Economy
against The Super Bugs
of Hospital Rooms
& They have enabled Me
to sing out Their Praises
in The Enclosure
of My
Edge
The Hawk Portico 6:25pm
When The Waves
At The Back
Have Accompanied Me
Through Midday,
Simmering Down By Evening,
I Come To The Front
To The Hawk Portico
Where I Can Turn My Ear
To A New Batch
The Hawk Deck 1:15pm
I Hear My Private World
squawking with an unidentified bird
atop the scraggly apple
waves resounding
just beyond the scrub spruce
the hedge is here, fluttering
with My Laundry on the line
& cats coming & going
from the shaded back deck
The Hawk Kitchen 9:15pm
I See A World
in the misty coatings
of My Glass Table Top
out on the evening deck —
I see gradations
of condensation
spelling out layers
of murky growth
surrounding the beginnings
of a smattering of continents
in The East
& a blurred
wash of fog
in The West
The Hawk Deck 1:15pm
I am on The Verge
of Something Big
drinking from The Cup of Life
watching rustling leaves
along The Hedge
with fog wafting past
opening out to Me
the interwoven
sustenance
of calling birds
& One
Steady
Fog
Horn