The Hot Place

Complementary weight throw
To the tune of dry sand sheets
We never appreciate what we create
Sweating steel matches of focused hard air
And no rings on high pitched atmosphere scathing


I can’t curse the feeling
I won’t hit the longing
I will not hurt the sanctuary of heated asylum
I won’t stop the motion
I will soothe the tension
I’ll correct the back break of knots want untying


I sucked in the forfeit
I cast the young dice fist
I threw the course obligatory shove in the door
I mistook the signals
I re-read in the citadels
I brought in the wind howling symmetry


It’s the moonlight that hits you
When you stay up past midnight
It’s the cold that forecasts itself
Under the wintertime snare


Thunder repeated: the image of shock
Keeping still she goes into the circle
Eyes closed and back turned she sees not the people
Rest and motion are in constant balance


No blame and no shame will come in this caution
All the nerve endings are in this back structured fashion
Calmness returning she faces the forces
Loosing the tempest of detailed hailed vessels


Peace to understand the laws of the universe
The ability to make no mistakes in the chasm
Lake stillness comes under the mountain of vision
And clarity comes to the patient and willing


Nov. 18, 2002