Volume 28, No. 2

Tired of enclosure, I sit near what view 
of trees and sky my house will give. 
Across the back fence, my neighbor 
who can hardly walk 

Because last night was Friday night 
I had to search to find a quiet place 
and when I found it I wanted to leave it 
though I wasn’t even working off a mean gin drunk. 

She prays in the shower, lifts 
her face to the streaming water 
god, to the shining metallic head 

Something wants spiritual 
yet hesitates, not wanting to show a lack 
of substance   intellect 
to not win at tennis or good looks 

In China, in August, ghosts are released 
from hell for a month of fun. Late July 
behind the gates, ghosts start queuing up, 
raising their hands and swearing to the guards

This visit you talk of Merlin in both poem and prose,
and how he transformed Arthur to insect or mole,
teaching him how to become. 

White brides, dark grooms 
lustrous silks on 
an orange afternoon, 
scuffing through dry leaves 

One of his had just spilled 
some Cheerios, and one of hers 

was griping over the Grapenuts. 
He was about to holler

Put water between the highway and yourself; 
put a fence too, and some cows to graze. 

For as long as you sit on this rock, 
you are not driving north or south,

is two currents of light on the hill. 
One drains into the western sky, 
the other, into the maw of rock behind me.
I am a dazzled part of light that opens