Sinewed by the the ancient art
of tai chi, he forged the forces of the universe
to lure a dreamer into his lair. He stayed

silent as a spider; and with seamless
gliding of limbs and fingers,
he entrapped his prey like a moth

entangled in a cobweb. The sky
was bleeding then when she asked: “How
can I walk through the dusk?” “Just

follow me, I’m a pathfinder,” said
he. He whispered to her ear: “Close
your eyes my child and trust your heart.”

And to the tremor of his voice he danced
her, deeper and deeper into
the night. Soon his lips dripped with her

muffled sobs, the stench of his slobber
drifted into her pristine dream; and he
confessed: “She came to me; I’m innocent.”



blots of blood

Blots of blood clot and cling
Upon the leaves of gray grass –
A sea of gun powder scent assaults
My dreams like mad soldiers
Trembling fingers trigger thunders
That burst skulls and splinter hearts
And crush dreams dreams dreams
Of silent seas, of green hills, of kites
Kissing rainbows arching over the hills.

Each morning I awake
The scent of gray grass
And blood tails my nostrils
Breathe deeply says my monk friend
And I do and bullets crisscross
in my chest. Come to me

Taste my blood come
Be with me in my dreams dreams dreams
Kites kiss clouds over the hills
O hills embrace me with your foggy green grain
O sea sing sing sing me a lullaby.

06feb2007/ 2:30pm