Head

Lying to Oneself

Keyhole

Studies

Klee's Angel

BUFO AMERICANUS

BUFO AMERICANUS

Sleeper wombed in warm unlight
Slipperquivering flesh of red unreason
Legs twitching, you groan
and from your amphibious lungs bubble
the mumbled syllables of incoherent prophecy
a bubblebabble of koax and brekkek
gurgling to the heavens...
Do angels stand at the four corners
of your bed, drenched in their scaly commodities,
trumpets at their licked lips?
When you ripplerise you wash away
your frogface, and straightening your tie
step out the door, leaving
wet footprints in the crimson clay.

Eagle

Woof

Medusa

Nightman

Doors

Glimmerings

Candle

Passersby

Wings

Redhead

The angel in the library
Does not see the door—
Does not discern the window-glass—
Flutters desperately from shelf to shelf
Staying near to the ceiling—
Charting divine parabolas
Along the grid of asbestos tile—

The trees are paused in ice
No one breathes
I do not breathe

Red Square

Map

Landfill

Look! It is the consecrated mount
Of suits sans bodies
Footless shoes and neckless necklaces
Empty belts still buckled
to the hard-won third notch
Whispering in ghastly pizzicati
Rustling, shivering in the thin breeze
Patient for their inheritance
Patient as valleymaking drops.

Temporary Transfiguration

Gentlemen, old Bach is here!

Discovery

Angel; Falling

Bird Becoming Man