Outstanding Achievements in Homemaking


When I walk home at night, the people hidden in their houses speak to me.
Their whispers fill my head like ear medicine; I hear the sea.

There's a weedy bridge near my house; I've never wondered what it spanned.
Now speculation arrives like migrant workers: A forgotten gully? A tiny sea?

Not as far as you've walked but close -- the faint mystery you nearly know.
The sentence that begins your thought.  The bench from which you watch the sea.

Ably won, echoes flow from my good day to my deep night, alone.
Viva the dreams that create my head; viva the fish in the sea.

Either everyone's beautiful without their clothes or no one is; I decided
That the act of creation is categorically sweet, now let's all crawl back to the sea.


 

Horse, Machine, Motorbike, Creature


Palomino, Palomino, never give your goodies up
for coats of sable or that pretty whinny you still hear when there's
air in the sky, never take no, never assume that a
summer holds more than one fine day, or that a race is run.

Chevelle, Chevelle, keep your engine roaring; inflammable.
you make men into James Dean, you make girls blond as snow.
you make great powerful clouds of poisonous black beauty.
so meet me at the ruined beach, and don't lose my baby.

Triumph, Triumph, bear your dirt and oil well, let your chrome
be home to spoils of sweet June nights; the long hauls back from
St. Paul and further West will be measured in handfuls of corn
and dreams of kisses and hot dinners and windfall and rain.

Little dog, little dog, when I'm home from all of this, down I lay
on the best bed money can buy and pour a frosty glass
of Roustabout; I have a great fear of sheetrock, little friend
you're like no animal on the road; let's crash without running.