these animals of light

mostly i keep my eyes on the
path (unkown dips and rises hidden by growth)
as i run through
but when i do look up:
whispy seedheads of wild grasses
bending yellow-brown flowers that may or may not be
jerusalem artichokes
the tree line rise-falling in the nearing distance
a true wild
a generous expanse

your breakfast is ready, miss danger
alline calls out through the door to my
post-run shower-refreshed self


one gem of many from
the writer’s corner when
n writes: i just want to keep partying
with these animals of light

couldn’t remember i write
if i called her or me glitterpot
or pile of sequins
whatever it is, it’s about her light
but there’s also the desire for
historical accuracy like maybe
she was a sequin rainbow and i was the glitterpot

overheard from wraparound porch desk perch
after the newspaper deliverer rolls up
with something marily manson/metallica sounding
pumped/pumping through the stereo:
coolest thing i seen
they took a silo and
turned it into a house
now i got a question for ya
why don’t you guys mow the grass
and for the finale:
you got some pretty
women out here too

shadow is anything we aren’t
conscious or aware of (within/about ourselves)
dee says and introduces us to
the golden shadow
and the obsidian shadow
and then she mentions the
holographic nature of reality


i missed her squish i say about
how it felt to hug her after she earned
her weight watchers golden key

we are eating our
mandolined potatoes and laughing
about the wasa cracker
bread crumbly cheesy broccoli-topping crunch

mica and i under spill of stars
hwo the milky way re-orients itself on her
in surprise arrangements overhead
and how even though i’ve been shown
in southern colorado and northern new mexico
i still can’t tell if scorpio the constellation
(there’s your tail) has risen


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