FOUR POEMS

The Wounded Clock Time is aslow close-up while waitingfor a woundto close up but once it heals,everythingspeeds up and returns tothe surface again. The Witches’ Open House for Toni Simon It is very airy— has no walls,no roof,no door. There are columns of stonesthat rise like smoke and stand precariouslybut never fall. These stones(which may once have been birds) are easy to animateand rearrange to makestone tables and stone chairs. It is an energy field.A cape of space. Many may passand not know it’s there. The Lonely Parade Eachcarriestheirparcelsofsadness throughthetwilightvillage undertheillusionthey’realone whenreallythey’reinthemajority. Flaming Star Going to the movieswas anarchic back then. You walked in on the storywherever it was in the telling, happy just to sit in the darkand listen to these giants—be with them for an hour or two. Women often taking offtheir clothes. Men often shootingor getting shot. One of the first onesI ever saw was Flaming Star. I remember sad-eyed Elvisstaring out at usas…