You sit in your cave, wrap

your many-colored blanket

over your still shoulders,

watch spiders, maggots, ants

perform the handiwork of decay.

 

Or you stand on your cliff,

naked, your cock and balls

kissed and licked by the winds,

survey the sway of aspens,

the urge and breadth of pines.

 

Beneath a gentle sun

you see yellow butterflies,

pink-throated hummingbirds,

violet-haired thistles.

Robins may drink from pools at your feet.

 

Or in burning moonlight,

bats dance around your head,

moths ignite in candle

flames, dreams take you where boys

hold knives and men turn away.

 

All this can happen. The

question is what do you

desire? What do the heart’s

blind eyes perceive? Do you

see robins and the water they drink?

 

1991

from Text and Commentary (Mandala Publishing).

For my thoughts on writing this poem, follow this link.