Short poem

In the dark irritation of the eyes there is a snake hiding

In the exhalations of Americans there is a crumbling empire

In the foul waters of the rivers there are Palestinians

OUT OUT of its borders pain has a leash on its neck

In the wheat stalks there are insects vaccinated against bread

In the Arabian boats there are sharks shaken with laughter

In the camel’ s belly there are blind highways

OUT OUT of TIME there is spring’ s shattered hope

In the deluge on our plains there are no rains but stones

Air as lost time
Voice of a cloud, of a ghost crowned with nimbus
Smack-thin, it lingers forty years
I thought it came from the jeweled world we’ d seen
Everything stuffed, urgent, glittering alive
But it was just pleasure, blank and sure
Now what is there to sing
From speakers, the tune folds and fades in waves
Earphones drive it through your head

The last line should strike like a lover’ s complaint.
You should never see it coming.
And you should never hear the end of it.

Fate piles up
On the bloody Norman shore.
If you must swim there
Swim on your back.

Swift and subtle
The flying shuttle
Crosses the web
And fills the loom,
Leaving for range
Of choice or change
No room, no room.

Master of PuppetsKung-Fu Theater