Jungle Riddim

When it got too heavy
the canopy fell down:
the cats pawed at confetti—

Rain fell with it, and San Franciscan
bands of fog to emend our lists:
errata, one, and corrigenda.

I inhabit these too deeply:
thin disguises, broken glasses,
water bottles, table textures,

hoarse falsettos, soft tortillas,
shrewd predictions, cauliflower,
mandarin waffle irons,

gray amazing paper scrapers,
lasers with an eye for fashion
cascading rather like an onion,

ears for fears, A Love Supreme,
my alter ego in a dream
(where I was played by Johnny Cochrane).

I wrote a poem when I was twenty one
in which the moon in horror shone.

I Was Worried About You, Tiger!

I was worried about the tiger
and played my blues upon the lyre,
my worried blues, my sickened soul's own song,
I worried about the tambourine and gong.

The water poured like coriander blue
if the spice, that is, could pour like water true.
Gnu chew phooey silo full of glue:
I worried about that tiger like it was you.

Margin Poem 3: Wack Brackets

That's a lot of
dragons
in the water
low & stagnant,
I'm asthmatic
& pragmatic,
but I lack a
strong aesthetic.
In the pool
I spoke too soon,
& drew, w/in
my heart,
a gun.

Margin Poem 2: Long Triangle

Do you give
them the same
amount of time?
Of information?

I want you
so bad.

Equal time,
would you say?
One of the policies.

I want you
so, so bad.

You don't have
to blow
the student off.
"Knows in advance,
how much time
they need to
devote to you."

I want you
so bad.

Margin Poem 1

Do you feel
love--can
you trace it
to its source,
its fountainhead
where the warm
water braces
itself in holy
expectation?


[Written in a real margin.]