It’s not because of not you,
just my mind’s mid side-stepping
for a couple of syncopated beats .
Let’s talk the modern man:
after shaves and attitudes,
breathing in fresh weeds
growing-greeting blood-golden sun,
and some deep-blue-green
ocean-fed sky arching
the circle of my mind’s eye on calm
a deep breath out and deeper in.
Micro-philosophizing, watching ants
building up micro-empires
for now and a boot’s blow.
Oh baby with your red-eyed strands
of velvety umbilical cords
climbing into melting-down skies,
if I kiss your hair will you even notice?
I was dreaming this rule
for coming man:
beat bravely the big round untempered drum,
force discord, break the swing.
Let light in, dare!
While I ride my brown horse
over sharp stones
into an Arizonade:
sun- stinging brain-matter
of flowery poly- chromatic
tastes of the real
excerpt from “Ap-holo-gees”
© the author writing as Gurkski