poem: avalanche

I got lost in your Name
tumbling down the hillside
rolling past your holy rosy cross
inundations of blessed spirit
greening the soul
apriling the quivering hesitations
anviling the burgeoning seal
as if agency were a blessing
in all our nooks
all our harvests
all our emancipations
dissipations
triangulations
into the blessed might
into the blessed night
into the blessed sanctifications of our
rollercoastering rampant flight.

poem: nowhere you

(Facebook kept advertising a Norah Jones poem contest in my margins; every time I clicked, I was sent into cyber-oblivion. No Norah dinner for two for me, I guess; but, I wrote the poem anyway.)

Slapdash paddle ma'am
sitar-kissing punjab
of the western slopes
metroplex baby in her
swishy nines
you couldn't ask for more
digitalis has a way with
the wives of men
the dayglo apothecaries
rhyme their ways to heaven
absenting themselves
from the cooing
sisterwaves, algebra
too can boogie
in the shines, if
your danger has
a vegematic fluff,
dreamy dreams
accentuating anything in
the way of plenty,
she were a cooing cooer
weren't she, said
all the middle schoolers, she
were the biggest of your
minstrel dreams, when the down
was out, left field streamers
streaming the Madisons,
the Carries, the simplest
of rainbow girls on runabout:
blessed we are
she's a brokenhearted
little geisha girl,
all six-guns ablazin' -
she's your roomer, boy -
she'll do your dreams
in paisley, nestle up on
that bus to nowhere,
you can leave your
middleschool middleearth drearies
all behind, from here on
out it's all torchlight
daddy, touchdown
assassins of the unfurled
heart, ninth potion
of the seminal
stream.