Since I was

I was a poet when celestial rings Of burning clouds hissed for me Danced around campfires as nymphs, Called for rain Or overcast predictions Of sexual digressions Committed to paper In defense of the word supreme — The Word, spring like and nurturing.

I was a poet when sense sank into a samovar Pouring sensibility through a cup of blinding tea And Leotards jumped in unison to frighten gazelles Across the screens of mundane melancholy.Had a sip of semaphore drunk Pastry dunked in scrumptious archival gravy Making reference to seed sacks of sad saps and me.

Oceans glistening through bird’s wings Framed in flight and Brancusi I was a poet then and maybe never again Since I allowed myself to age quickly Through sugar, sugar, sugar Pronounced fatigue Failed fraternity Landscapes without color Receding to antiquity.

October 29, 2005 Livermore, CA