i'm soooo tired, reader! I've been stuck bobbing up and down in a sea of drama today, clinging to nothing but the seat of a shitty airplane that crashed and threw me here; the stewardess told me it would function as a floatation device, but she's starting to lose her credibility.

perhaps some beauty rest is in order for the Goat tonight.

Alas, i wrote, finally! This last trip to SLC has really fired up the poetry engines, so hopefully those don't run out, and i can crank out some more work. This one i'm posting tonight originally formed about a week and a half ago, drawing off the guatemala experience (mostly the nighttime mediatation in Tikal), but now merged with some of the inspiration i received and felt in Utah this past weekend. For what it's worth, here it is. (I've written better, and this is a bit of a departure from my most recent works, but shit, i'll post it anyways, since it feels like it's finished.)

Sleep well, reader, and dream of sweet stuff.

-------------------------------------------

maslow

3/8/05

fade into the twilight

forget not these lonely cries and scattered
dead-resonant driftwood thoughts
that slither about
in a bit of grass before me –
         serpentine sharp slivers of
         yesterday’s smiles and the blackened laughs of ages
         seduced by whimsy in the occasional
but before you sublimate into the peppered night
remember how I’d climb
to the top of it all and sing a
silent tune
around
the
stones
twirling on a whim
while trees and leaves blacken your silence
and explode from the pressure of frozen elation
I found in the ascent to those
forbidden
expiring
distances
between you and I, the ones that
still make me sigh slow spring tears
in the night like midnight mist

so one last time
before you go
rise to the moon and dance with me! come see
this world in that muted chime
as the lord of all and saint of none
pivoting across the branched leaves
of trees twittered and scaled
skidding
like a weary warrior child
bellowing as her father fell, bastard sun
roasting skins of the thousands who wept
for us

and at last
after all this fade