Maybe Baby

Giving up the dead
Haute and circumstance
Rings of fire circumspect
Light rises buoyed and shed
Push through the contortions
Of the cortex, Cortez sailing
Beyond the flowers and familiar soil

Pick up the scepter and dance
With morning embers of chill
Clarity waits on white foaming horses
Adoring dawn impeccable, replaceable
Breaking from the dank within
Leave death behind
Like cool tiresome bath water
Float to your one
Protected in purple robes
And tomorrow’s mess

Tomorrow will wean itself
From today like a cool coated calf
Fresh and wide eyed
Not knowing what will be
Meted out
Fragile quivering legs
Talking calmly to the ground

Ushering in the future
With red velvet stanchions
White gloves
A flashlight pointing in the direction
Of a coming attraction
Looking for reaction
Walking calmly with the sound

Wanting panhandler change
Chewing on greenbacks
At Hollywood and Vine
Dreams of becoming the butterfly
So transparent
And life so scant

from Fat Poet Dies in Grain Elevator Accident & Other Poems


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