Excerpt from "Incantations Of The Grinning Dream Woman" (title poem) :


Once my days hung in limbo,
catapulted toward some incomprehensible end.

In the yellow peeling wallpaper
I saw faces of hitch hikers.

Then one morning I left,
and someone else took my bed.

I had to fit my back against the hollow of a rock.

At first I tiptoed without a compass,
relied on the smell of damp earth,
the rough feel of bark.

I followed a string of unlit bulbs across
the continent, turned the lights on as I walked.

I was your grinning dream woman,
wandering from tree to tree.
Each mile was another year passing.

In winter the blacktop highway contracted, froze.
In fall the leaves dropped quickly.
When I looked back they were gone.

(excerpted from title poem)




How Does the Wind Wail?


Like mamas
whose children wander homeless
in the universe.

Like a child alone.

How does the wind wail?

Down the walls
of monolith skyscrapers.

Alone.

Where does the wind travel?

Over blue pine hollows,
hapless regions of desolate oak,

across a Joshua tree in the desert,
arms raised in prayer.

How will I know
the wind's nearby?

When the last guest leaves the party
and the door slams shut.

Who'll put the wind to sleep?
Will it sleep in my arms?

Who will be my love
when the wind sleeps in my arms?

And what does the wind want from me?
What does it want?

It wants my body.
Wants my heart.

It tugs on my shirt
as I comb my hair.

I turn around
and there's nothing there.

It circles my fingers,
tickles my spine,

skips over synapses,
steals my thoughts.

When I wrestle in sleep,
I wrestle wind.

When nothing else speaks
there's still
the wind.






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