Household Songs: The Brief and Unremarkable Life of Joseph Clarence Strauss/III

Dazzling under a golden pansy,
deceptively smooth arms
lazily beckon our inquisitive mimic towards sparkling
white porcelain.

But when four fingers meet,
small sanguinary seeds
sink into a waiting puddle of warm,
milky water.

——-

Two-year-old children are a curious bunch!

Outside of Us

Her stockings swayed beneath the blue.
Their heels were crying out to you.
But never would they walk again
Amongst the legs of lying men
Or tread on daybreak’s glassy dew.

A mourning dove cast out a coo.
Ten prying eyes dashed forth to view
This carnal scene inside the glen.
Her stockings swayed

Three feet away they found a shoe.
Its skin was scratched but clearly new.
The war within this grassy pen
was quite beyond harsh vulture’s ken.
Into the wild, afar they flew.
Her stockings swayed

Farewell to the Ancient

Fear not, for I shall
bear witness to your
broken egg body as it
dawdles on a day that
might be its last. Those
four jagged cliffs will
surely collapse before
scarlet trumpets descend
upon our land.

I will remember.  And
when the violets rise
again, I shall speak of
you tenderly with a
voice spun from honey.
Sleep.  Lay your weary
head upon the cool
stone.  This unseen
world will fall away.
Sleep.

Dispatch to the North

I often think about the alternate paths
that you might have chosen.  The unknown
ones beyond the white picket fence.

Perhaps, you own a vintage record
shop.  And smile at customers with
sunshine flowing all over your back.

Sweet and low, your voice floats over
scores of ears – sweat trickling down
rough rosy cheeks.

In the country on a Sunday evening.  You
sip on white wine while listening to The
Carter Family.  Yakking on a porch swing.

At Hampton Court Gardens you enjoy
a spot of tea.  The tulips blooming as
far as your blue, beloved eyes can see.

One thousand roads fan out behind us.
Yellow woods, wondrous and vast, shall
never be encountered again.