Flood

When the phrases
hit the page it’s like
a flash flood
all writhing over
parched pathways
in liquid chords and
choruses made
chaos,

(to think that I have
nailed words to some
Saharan doorframe
like a Luther of the Dunes!)

but harmony flows
no rushes
no thunders
no ruptures
symphonically
climactically
boundlessly

and the loosed fingers
over paper
keys tuned
in locks
and jazz phrasing
are a reminder of
you and leaves
stars
frost
words

whispered
and wild blood
on my shoulderblades.

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Posted June 20th, 2005 in poetry. Tagged: .

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