For Frank

On the edge of a New Year

We stood on the water

On the edge of that pier

We waited

The ship slipped in

On fog dappled kitty paws

My ears are ringing;

The music was deafening

But dancable

Strange dark fingers

Fondle

Fur

"Mink?"

"No cat!"

Sends them skittering away.



Now the hearty lapping of water

Drums my inner ear

Like the anxious fingers on the coffee shop table top

Like the tinkle of the coffee cup

Creating creamy cyclones

Maddening.



And the chill

Two days before

I heard the click

The switch flipping

From off to on

From zero to one

A sharp line

In a blue sky says

Hail the vanquished hero

You survive

You return

Renewed

Resurrected

Ready for this cold baptism

This cold shelter

On the edge of this pier

At the dawn

Of a cold silent New Year.

On Labor Day Evening

Did you see it?
Did you hear it?
the click?
the switch flip
tips snip
no
no
not the salsa
not the rasta man
it cannot be found on the barbacoa grill
sausage sweat
soft hot rendered fat drips
black
on gray ashy coal
family
family
all gather round
guitar and accordione
analog in vinyl
if I must be buried
dip me in vinyl
on a golden September night
on the cliff of dirt
turned
golden orange

.

You do see it don't you?
clear
crisp
a cocktail in light
the wireless electric buzz
on this early Autumn eve
nee summer
hands on your bootie
floating on water
inside and outside
(its the brownies
they're kicking in)
but stop there
take your tongue out of my......

see it?
hear it?
trust me
it was there
i can see it
I'm not at the party
I'm not in familial orbit of abuse
say it with love
and make sure it draws blood
little tiny cuts
on the bottom of your tongue
hot sangria
sangria
sangrai di sanctos
oh Dominick
you foul dirty saint
sad
dreamless
alone

show him the tree in the sky
show him the boat on the bay
show him the quantum void that tunnels through time

hold them close
your small ones
your dear ones
hold them close
walk with them
talk with them
hold them close
to a broken heart
and let hem heal
that throbbing sore

my name is naught
you look at me
will i be here in the morning
or am i leaving you behind
corruptible
anxiety
Formossa
rocks my world to the bottom
of the riverbec

Earl

Outward
Facing outward
Double paned orbs
Stare
X-ed out
Sightless
To the wan steel blue skies
The color of your decrepit sailor's eye.