The table of earth & sky
I put three oranges on a big round wooden table by daylight,
the air is rind and juice, mild & pungent sweet.
Tiny imperfections in their skin, small shadows interlacing-
Looking down, the small shadows come on as self reflections.
One is a dark brooding blood orange,
with a sealed shut mouth and a pirates’ patch eye,
(in an orange colored sky)
Monotony and the sadness of blood drip down to the flat earth
the earth has a monotonous history of birth.
i put 4am on the table, this is my Niagara of pain and grief.
I can stand on the small platform in the salt rain
& listen to eternity wind down.
I put on the table the stately elegant wolf statue with his yellow eyes.
He is there ritually at 4 in the morning: faces me, and vanishes in the forest
leaves me empty & laying in the sun with my skin peeled away -

I once talked 18 hours thru a bathroom door
to help a suicide, and brought him back from the dead
to loan me 75 bucks, and never paid him back,
he owed me that -
The monotonous dripping sad orange blood turns black.
In the morning the small painted faces on the drops of morning light-
reflections of what we carry into the forest of our night.